Sinful
by caribou.and.cake
Summary: Ichigo's nothing more than street trash, selling his body for his next fix. But then a gorgeous blunette stranger makes him an offer, and Ichigo accepts. Now, for the security and love he's never had, he must be a Fallen angel's immortal lover. GrimmIchi
1. Part I: A New Life

**Summary**: Ichigo's nothing more than street trash, selling his body for his next fix. But then a gorgeous blunette stranger gives him an offer, that Ichigo accepts. Now, for the security and love he's never had, he must be a fallen angel's immortal lover. GrimmIchi

**Warnings**: AU, yaoi, lemony goodness in later chapters, occult/slight religious themes, violence, implied prostitution, language, Ichigo being OOC and wearing make-up and feminine clothing, general corniness and fluff.

**Beta'ed by the lovely** **_Ldzetc_. **

...

**Sinful - Part I**

**A New Life**

...

"_Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell." _

...

Lighting up a cigarette with a blood red Colibri, Ichigo Kurosaki's face was illuminated by the small flame as he walked down that alleyway on that moonless, cold night. Even as drawn, thin, and downright sickly the boy seemed to be, he was still a sight for sore eyes as the hollows of his pretty face were filled by the warm glow of the flickering fire and the small amount of light caught on the metallic steel gray and aquamarine eyeshadow painted around his eyes and the translucent body glitter that made his pale pallor look more ethereal than washed-out.

His dreamsicle-colored hair tumbled down to his shoulders in soft waves, small braids interweaved in the messy perfection, the rebellious locks that refused to lay straight flipping out and up and making a sort of sunset halo for his face, and a closer look would reveal that he had somehow applied glitter to the silky strands as well. With powder foundation, bronzer, rose blush, glimmering cheekbone highlighter, royal blue eyeliner, several coats of black noir mascara, and a lovely pearly pink lipstick applied to his already beautiful face, from the neck up he looked every inch an _haute couture _model, getting ready to pose for the cover of _Vogue _when heroin chic was still the talk of the town.

However, despite him being just as wraith-like and long-legged and even more stunning than most of the fashion models out there, that was where the similarities ended. He wasn't admired and fawned over like they were. Not that this bothered him very much, as he wasn't one for attention.

"_Fuck_," Ichigo said as he stumbled over something in the dark, his heavy boots being the only thing that stopped his ankle from being twisted. Silently patting himself on the back for wearing the knee-high, black, leather, lace up combat boots, he continued walking, throwing the expensive lighter in his hand to land by the dumpster in the alley somewhere. It hadn't been his, anyway, and he didn't really smoke all that often, only when he was bored.

Taking a deep drag and letting the nicotine infused smoke fill his lungs, he stopped to adjust his sheer, sable, lined tights that lay underneath hip-hugging purple denim shorts, the combination of the two making the tights ride up in rather uncomfortable places. Letting the cigarette hang from his glistening pink lips, he pulled down the material by his thighs and nearly sighed in relief as the tights returned to their proper position. Then he continued to walk down the alleyway, unzipping his black motorcycle jacket to reveal the form-fitting, long-sleeved ebony turtleneck and the mass of feathered and beaded Native inspired necklaces he wore around his slender neck.

As Ichigo neared the end of the alley, he could both hear and feel the thunderous bass line of an old dark wave song, one of his favorites and his lithe hips started to sway to the hypnotic beat of the music. Soon enough he came to round the corner of the alley and it was like night and day, the alleyway being pitch black and silent and here, the line of people waiting to get into the city's trendiest nightclub were all talking, laughing, dancing under the bright midnight blue neon lights that proclaimed the renovated historic building to be called _Sexta_. _Such a delicious name_, Ichigo thought as he walked straight up to the bouncer, who took one look at him and stepped aside to let him through.

Sighing as he heard the loud protests from the long line of club-goers as he was let inside, the orangette just continued on into the dim lighting of the club. If only they knew just what he had to do to get that small moment of special treatment...

Oh well, at least he didn't have to walk the streets like some of the less fortunate out here in this part of the city that was completely run by the underground. Perhaps it was a bit pathetic to be grateful for the fact that he could stay inside where it was warm and not have to degrade himself any further by securing his own clients on the side of the road.

Sometimes, he felt it may only just be a matter of time... After all, one day the looks that had gotten him where he was would fade and then he would fall even further down the rabbit hole. Hell, his looks _already_ were going due to the abuse he put his body through.

"Ichigo!" an excited, female voice cut through the din of the nightclub, which was actually pretty tame and more sophisticated than one might suspect looking at the outside of the building. They didn't even have a proper dance floor, but instead an assortment of gray and navy velvet couches that looked like they belonged in a Victorian mansion. Needless to say, when Ichigo had been placed here just last week, he had been pleasantly surprised, especially when he saw the kind of money he could make in a place like this, one made for high-powered criminals, drug lords, and general ringleaders of the black market.

"Have you seen him? Oh my God, he is to _die _for!" A pair of arms around his neck alerted Ichigo to the presence of a tall, dark-skinned purple-haired woman dressed in just about the shortest strapless white dress he'd ever seen. He stood there kind of stiffly as the woman embraced him, for despite his profession, Ichigo still wasn't all that comfortable being touched.

"Seen who, Yoruichi?" the orangette said as they parted, the woman giving him an 'are you serious?' look, her golden eyes disbelieving as her head cocked to the side.

"Where have you _been_? The owner of this place, of course. Honestly, Ichigo, you should have _seen _him, he's hotter than July and _the _top of the food chain around here," she said, her gaze misting over as she talked about this _him _that apparently Ichigo was supposed to know about. "By the way, you look beautiful as always, hon', but you know Ginjou is not going to be happy about that turtleneck."

The orange-haired male sighed, nodding. He knew that his boss wasn't going to like the fact that he came in something as modest as a turtleneck, but it was _freezing _outside and he hadn't been about to walk to _Sexta _with a tank top on. He wondered if the man would actually send him away for the night as he was apt to do whenever he got upset at one of his workers for doing something he didn't agree with or not following his orders. Then Ginjou usually showed up at their doorstep demanding the money they had lost him by not working that night. Ichigo knew that from experience.

"Kurosaki."

Speak of the devil...

Ichigo looked up to his brunette boss, whom shooed Yoruichi away with an absentminded gesture. A little offended, but knowing better than to say anything, the woman offered the orangette a look of pittance before slinking off into the crowd.

"Yes?"

"The owner of the place wants to meet with you," Ginjou said, taking a hold of the younger man's upper arm and leading him in further into the club. Ichigo nodded and, in spite of the fact that he had been doing this for a few months now, he felt his stomach drop, nerves making his hands shake and sweat break out on his brow. The only small comfort he had was that Yoruichi had praised the man's good looks, and though maybe it was superficial, Ichigo was glad it wasn't another middle-aged, less than attractive drug lord that liked to play rough. He'd had enough of those for a lifetime.

When they reached the very back of the club, at which a door was guarded by two burly men, Ginjou gripped Ichigo's other arm and glared down at him.

"Look, apparently this guy saw you in here and liked what he saw, because he's offering to buy your contract from me."

Ichigo's chocolate brown eyes widened exponentially and he was frozen in his shock. Why would some rich club owner want to buy _his contract_?

"This is a lot of money we're talking here, probably more than you'll ever see your whole life, Kurosaki, so when we go in there I want you to keep your mouth shut and look pretty. If you screw this up for me, I'll make sure you regret it. Are we clear?" Ginjou's tone was steely with a hint of condescension, as if he was reprimanding a child, but Ichigo gave the slightest of nods anyway. He wouldn't admit to being afraid of the man, but he had heard stories of what he had done to some of his workers that cost him money.

Suppressing a shudder, the orangette allowed himself to be led past the two guards and through the door where the owner of _Sexta _would be waiting.

He actually had to blink in order to let his eyes adjust to the lighting in the office they had just walked into. Though it was by no means bright, it was a far cry from the near darkness of the club floor, and Ichigo felt Ginjou let go of him only to push him forward. Unprepared for the shove, the orange-haired male almost stumbled and fell, but managed to catch himself on the back of a Victorian Era style armchair.

Cursing the fact that he was born with the ability to blush whenever something even mildly embarrassing happened, Ichigo felt his cheekbones burn a dark rose color as he brought his gaze up from his feet to where a man was sitting at a large desk, feet propped up on the surface, as two more stoic-faced men stood behind him.

_Yoruichi was right, he _was_ to die for_, was the only coherent thought that ran through Ichigo's mind as his eyes locked with the man at the desk's. They were positively hypnotizing, like crystals made out of dark ocean water, every bit as deep and dangerous-looking. And the thing was, the man had blue hair to match his eyes. Not the same shade, no his imperfectly perfect locks were robin's egg blue, like the color of the sky in the afternoon or the gemstone aquamarine and instead of contrasting with each other, the two features balanced each other nicely against the background of bronzed skin and the expensive dark gray suit the man was wearing.

He was absolute perfection and Ichigo wondered what the hell he was doing there because there was no way this man wanted to buy_ his_ contract. Surely there had been some mistake and he had meant to bargain for one of Ginjou's busty, entirely female beauties, not _him_. Yes, that must be it, so he should probably just turn around right there and-

"Here's the boy, just like you asked," Ginjou said. "He's nice and quiet, and won't hesitate to do anything you tell him to."

Ichigo frowned, bothered by his boss so obviously trying to sell him as if he were just an object instead of a living, breathing, person, but he knew better than to say anything. Besides, this man didn't _want_ him, it was obvious from the way he was staring at him. When the orangette was presented to potential clients, they all looked at him with barely contained lust in their gaze, hands twitching to touch him. But this blue-haired man's brow was furrowed as he seemed to think deeply at something, not ever moving his intense stare away from Ichigo's face, whose blush was now permanent for the moment due to the attention.

"Ichigo Kurosaki...is that correct?"

The orangette's knees nearly buckled as the man spoke. His voice was like if sex itself just started talking, husky and deep and sensuous, like rough velvet or silken steel, a perfect contradiction.

Eyes wide, Ichigo snuck a glance over to where Ginjou was standing- obviously not happy from the way the man had ignored him- and Ichigo remembered what his boss had said about talking and messing things up, but he so very much _wanted _to talk to this man, to speak freely to just about anyone. He felt like his brain might short circuit at any moment, his naturally fiery personality at war with the voice inside of his head that sounded suspiciously like Ginjou and yelled at him not to say a thing or he would pay for it later.

"Yeah, that's his name. Like I said, he doesn't talk much. But that's what they're for, isn't it? To stand there and look pretty?" Ginjou chuckled as he tried to make conversation in a fake jovial tone, sounding for all the world like a used car salesman.

"I asked _him_," the blue-haired man said, pointing to where Ichigo stood, still quiet as a mouse. The owner was clearly not amused by Ginjou's attempts at banter if the displeased expression on his face was anything to go by. "Your name is Ichigo Kurosaki, right?"

"Yes," the orangette said, his tone betraying his anxiety that he was doing something wrong. Perhaps that wasn't the answer the man had wanted to hear or maybe he should have just stayed silent because he was being tested on whether or not he really was quiet.

"Speak up, I can't hear you."

Ichigo's nerves got the best of him. He hadn't even been in the room with the man for five minutes, didn't even know his name, and yet he would have given just about anything to persuade the man to buy his contract. He wasn't exactly sure how he knew, but Ichigo _was _sure that this blue-haired and eyed man was his ticket to get out from under Ginjou's thumb.

"I said **yes**_._"

Relief washed over him as he saw the man's lips quirk upwards into the smallest of smirks, amusement sparkling in his sapphire eyes. But he was still on edge as he heard Ginjou audibly grind his teeth, no doubt in annoyance that he had spoken at all.

"So, _Ichigo_." The blue-haired man's smirk widened as he shifted and recrossed his long legs on the desk calling attention to his expensive leather shoes. Italian, for sure. "I'm sure your..._proprietor _has informed you that I'm interested in buying your contract. However-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by Ginjou's pissed imitation of a snarl when he rounded on Ichigo, seizing the orangette by the arm.

"I told you not to say anything, you stupid little-"

"Ginjou," the blue-haired man said. "Allow me to finish talking before you make yourself look like the worthless cunt you really are."

Ginjou's expression was priceless and Ichigo felt a surge of awe and respect for the man still looking like he hadn't had a care in the world when he had just insulted the most powerful person that the boy knew of in the underground. Ginjou didn't just have the best boys and girls in the region, but he also controlled several wide-spread drug rings and trafficked black market weapons up and down the entire coast.

And yet, he didn't say anything to the man that had just called him the name most would consider just about the worst in the book. Ginjou just stood there and _took it._ Ichigo did notice a monstrous vein ticking in his temple though and had to stifle the giggle that formed at the sight.

"Like I was saying." The blue-haired man paused, tapping a finger to his lips. Then he gestured to the two hulking beasts behind him. "Actually, I want to speak with Ichigo alone, so I'll just have Edrad and Nakeem see you out."

It seemed that with that, Ginjou had reached his limit for dealing with the blue-haired man that didn't fawn over him like everyone else in the underground world did. Tightening his hold on Ichigo's arm to a bruising grip, he snarled a little bit. It was an unimpressive sound that made the orangette wonder how he had ever gotten so much power in the first place.

"I don't let my employees speak with anyone when the money's not in my pocket," Ginjou said. Ichigo almost snorted at the use of the word _employees_, as if they worked at some common place like Starbucks, and not in the part of the city filled with its worst.

"You'll get your money. In fact, you can have it right now," the blue-haired man said, gesturing once more to one of the two men standing behind him, whom then bent down and retrieved a stainless steel suitcase that was immediately placed on the desk and propped open to reveal hundreds of bills stacked on top of one another.

Ichigo's jaw dropped slightly as he took in what really _was _more money than he had ever seen in his life, probably more money than any average person had seen. That couldn't really all be for _him_. Just how much was the contract of a teenage prostitute worth?

The hold that Ginjou had on his arm was gone in an instant as the man crossed the room to flip through a wad of bills faster than Ichigo had ever seen his boss move before, his eyes sparkling with greed and a kind of sick joy. It made the orange-haired boy wrinkle his freckled nose in distaste, rubbing his arm in the place where Ginjou had been holding onto him; it was sure to bruise.

"It's all there?"

"Yeah, it's all there," the man sitting at the desk said, a frown marring his perfect face. Then he extended one leg to kick the suitcase full of money off of the desk so that it landed on the floor by Ginjou's feet. "Take it and get the fuck out."

Ichigo watched with wide eyes as his now former boss, the man he had lived in fear of for the past few months and generally acknowledged as the most influential man in the region's underground world, swallowed his colossally sized pride and bent down to pick the suitcase off of the floor. After snapping it closed and tucking it under his arm, he nodded stiffly to the blue-haired man.

"Thank you for your patronage," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, which was clearly unappreciated by the other man, who drummed his fingers on the wooden surface of the desk.

"Didn't I tell you to get the fuck out?" The blue-haired man didn't even have to beckon forward the two gorillas behind him before they walked right up to Ginjou, towering over his taller than average frame. Ichigo backed up a few steps, not wanting to be so close to the imposing figures that looked more like storybook giants than actual humans.

"Yeah, well, I hope we can do business again," Ginjou said, retreating from his place by the ebony wood desk to the door that led back to the club floor, obviously trying to look like he wasn't intimidated as he turned his gaze on Ichigo. "Good riddance," was all he said before marching through the door into the darkness and pulsing music that lay beyond.

Ichigo let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. It was shaky and long and shuddering, the sound of relief. He couldn't believe that this man he didn't know from Adam had just paid...however much that had been to buy his contract from Ginjou. While he wasn't sure of the amount his past clients had given his former boss as he never actually handled any money, just taking the pittance Ginjou gave him at the end of the week, he was sure that it hadn't even been a minuscule fraction of what had been in the suitcase.

"You won't have to see him again," that rough velvet voice said, its owner shifting in his chair so that his feet were now resting on the floor. Ichigo looked from where he had been staring unseeingly at the door to the man that had just bought his contract, tangerine eyebrows meeting each other in a confused frown.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

The orange-haired male gestured to the door, endearingly looking a little lost. "Why did you just give Ginjou all of that money...?"

The blunette man's indifferent expression lightened into an amused one, bright sapphire eyes gleaming like the actual precious stone. It made Ichigo's heart skip a beat, because the man looked _so _much better when he wasn't scowling or looking as if the entire world bored him immeasurably. Almost divine, actually.

"Weren't you listening? I did it for you."

"Don't you mean for my contract?" Ichigo said. There was an undercurrent of bitterness to his tone, but it didn't faze the other male one bit.

"No, I mean for you. That's what I was trying to say before. I wanted to tell you that I don't own people like they're property." The blue-haired man grinned then, a predatory, egotistical grin that would have come off as creepy on anyone else, but on him was one of those frighteningly beautiful things that made Ichigo's breath hitch. "I don't need insurance to make pretty things like you stay with me, so I just did it to do this," he paused, reaching across his massive, ornate desk to hold up a piece of paper with a signature at the bottom that was very familiar to the orangette. He had signed that dotted line at the beginning of the summer, when he had been desperate and willing to do just about anything to get the money he needed to get his next fix.

He watched with wide eyes as the blue-haired man drew a lighter from his suit jacket pocket, using his thumb to produce the small flame that caught onto the dry piece of paper and then consumed the white and black thing rapidly, the words that had signed his life away disappearing into ash. The relief that he had been feeling earlier tripled and he felt so faint had to hold onto the back of that armchair that had saved him from falling earlier.

"For you," the blue-haired man repeated.

Would a complete stranger really be so kindhearted as to pay a small fortune just to set him free from Ginjou's clutches? Ichigo hadn't had much faith in humanity since he was a child, so though he felt an overwhelming gratitude towards the gorgeous man in front of him, he was reluctant to believe that this would be the end of things. There had to be a catch somewhere.

"Now that you're a free man, Ichigo, I'd like to offer you a proposition," the man said and Ichigo's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "Hey, don't look at me like that, now. I just wanted you to join me for dinner at my apartment tonight." He reclined in his high-backed armchair, his body language saying that it wasn't exactly a request. Not that Ichigo really wanted to say no, anyway.

"But...it's after midnight," he said intelligently, cursing himself mentally for not saying something that sounded more smooth. However, it seemed the other male was amused by his answer as he gave a low chuckle.

"Yes, but being the owner of a night club as well as...other things, I'm nocturnal, so I eat dinner in a few hours. But-" The blue-haired man leaned forward in his chair then, his cyan gaze gleaming with bemusement and a bit of lasciviousness. "I always eat alone, and it would be a real treat if you'd join me so that I could talk to you about my proposition, Ichigo."

The way he said Ichigo's name had the latter's knees buckling under him and his mouth was suddenly bone dry. Licking his lips and unable to find his voice, he just settled for nodding his acceptance of the invitation.

"Perfect," the blue-haired man said, almost sounding like he was purring. "My driver will take you to my apartment. You can wait there while I finish up some things."

"Okay...you're not going to...are you?" Ichigo's unspoken fear was justified, living the lifestyle he had been for the past few months and hearing the horror stories from the others about what happened to some of those that went to meet a client somewhere and never coming back. And maybe it was a little silly of him to ask that, like someone planning on doing something terrible would answer honestly, but he felt like, though he didn't even know the man's name, that he could trust him. When you live in a world full of danger, you learn to listen to your instincts, and Ichigo's instincts were telling him that this man was safe.

"If you thought I would, you wouldn't have asked that."

Ichigo dropped his gaze to the ground, flushing slightly. It was like the other could see right through him, past all of the walls he had built in order to protect himself from all of the predators in his world. But the thing was, he didn't mind letting this specific one in; it had been getting rather lonely inside of his inner ivory tower.

"I'll have the car brought to the front," the blue-haired man said, twirling the lighter still in his hand between his index finger and thumb. "Do me a favor and wait for me in the sitting room, and don't go into the master bedroom."

"Why not?" The petulant question was out of Ichigo's mouth before he could stop himself.

"That, sweetheart, is a secret." The man's arrogant grin widened, showing off bright white teeth and sharper than average canines. It reminded Ichigo of that old adage that girls always go for the bad boys, because it certainly wasn't a kind or loving smile and yet it sent a warm, tingling feeling through him.

But in this case, he wasn't really bad, was he? Though Ichigo still had no idea why, the man had bought his contract and burned it, meaning that the orangette was now no longer a slave to Ginjou. He no longer had to do whatever the man said in order to secure his safety and the constant supply of off-white powder in little transparent bags. So whatever the secret in his master bedroom was, it couldn't be that terrible.

"Oh," was all Ichigo said, as if the other's answer had explained everything. And when the man beckoned him forward with a crooked finger, he didn't hesitate to cross the few steps needed to bring him flush with the desk. It seemed that the nearer he got to the blue-haired male, the more beautiful he became...it was unreal. Ichigo had been in close contact with a number of people, no matter how reluctantly, and knew that from far away people could look attractive until you got a look at them up close and started to see all of the flaws they so desperately tried to hide. But this man in front of him impossibly had not one imperfection.

In a motion almost too fast for him to see, the man captured Ichigo's hand and brought it to his soft, cool lips, brushing them against the sensitive skin whilst never breaking eye contact. It was like a scene from a romance novel, except galaxies better because, in spite of the place they were in and just who they were, it seemed so pure. There was no subtext to the gesture, only the tenderness that most would think unattainable for two perfect strangers to share.

"I'll see you later then, Ichigo," the blue-haired man said, smiling against the flesh of Ichigo's hand before letting it go, the appendage immediately feeling warm and empty without those cool, strong fingers holding it.

"Y-yeah, see you," Ichigo said, dazed, walking away. He was almost to the door when he turned back with an urgency burning in his mocha-colored eyes. "Wait!"

The man's sky blue eyebrow arched in response. "Yes?"

"Um...what's your name? I just feel like I should know because-"

"It's Grimmjow. Now go get in that car before I carry you there."

* * *

><p>The ride to Grimmjow's apartment was silent. The driver was a stoic man with a long braid whose name Ichigo forgot as soon as it was said, his mind clouded with thoughts and questions of the person that had just turned his entire world upside down in the matter of twenty minutes. In a good way, though. <em>A very good way<em>. The ride was also long, since the place they were headed was not in the urban nightlife epicenter where _Sexta _was located, nor was it in the city's poverty-ridden neighborhoods where Ichigo had spent most of his life. No, it was in the part of the city that he'd never been before, which housed the wealthiest citizens in historic townhouses and costly skyscraper apartment buildings.

It was already apparent that the blunette he now knew as Grimmjow was rich as hell, given how willingly he had paid a small fortune for Ichigo's contract, but it still stunned the orangette when he saw that he would be riding to Grimmjow's apartment in a vintage Rolls Royce. He'd thought only Fortune 500 executives and royalty would own such a beautiful piece of machinery.

And then there was the apartment itself.

Ichigo had been impressed when he'd gotten into the elevator with Grimmjow's driver and he'd pressed the 'PH' button, but when the doors had opened Ichigo's jaw must have hit the floor. Even though he had been bereft of the finer things all of his life, he was sure that anyone in the world would have been in awe of the penthouse apartment.

He'd walked into the foyer, eyes wide as the driver bid him goodnight before the elevator doors closed. He didn't even register the words as he drank in the dark gray marble floor and double staircase framing the entrance to the rest of the first floor and heading for that, he passed by the table in the center of the massive foyer floor. He smiled a bit as he realized Grimmjow must have a fondness for black wooden furniture and that the vase held roses that were not red or pink or white, but a soft powder blue. He must have an affinity for that color as well.

The room Ichigo assumed was the sitting room where Grimmjow had told him to wait was right through the entryway. It was impossibly large, with high ceilings and the entire wall opposite of him was made completely out of glass, the entire city visible and looking deceitfully pretty with all of its bright lights twinkling in the moonless night.

It would also seem that the room was decorated in a way similar to _Sexta_, gray and midnight blue being the primary colors, with a hint of ivory and black in the throw pillows that lay on the same kind of Victorian Era low-backed couches and chaise lounge that were in the club, but Ichigo had a sneaking suspicion that those were reproductions and the ones in front of him weren't.

The orangette took great care in sitting down as softly as possible on the couch closest to him, placing his hands in his lap. For several minutes he just stared into space, wondering how long Grimmjow would be and just what kind of proposition he wanted to offer him and _why _the man seemed so interested in him when they had never met before that night. However, being a restless person by nature, Ichigo slid out of his motorcycle jacket, laying it on the couch before standing up and pacing the room.

It was odd, really. There were no pictures of family and friends, no little knickknacks that everyone accumulated over the years. Except for the lighting, it didn't even look like there was a hint of technology in the room either, not a stereo or television or phone in sight. It almost felt like a museum- devoid of personality.

Ichigo thought it must be lonely to live in a place like this. And then he pondered whether or not Grimmjow had a family, or friends, or any one at all.

It must have been kismet, because he almost jumped a foot in the air when a female voice seemed to come from out of nowhere.

"You must be Itsygo!" it said and the orangette's eyes darted around wildly, looking for the source, and found it when he spotted a figure in a doorway he hadn't noticed before then.

"Yeah, that's me," he said, laying a hand over his chest and willing his heart to stop beating so fast.

The speaker was a tall, buxom woman who looked to only be a bit older than him and dressed in a simple, halter-top black dress that outlined her generous curves. She had long, beautiful sea-foam colored hair with bangs that lay over her pretty, smiling face. Ichigo noticed that she had a pink birthmark over the bridge of her nose and gray eyes that sparkled with excitement as she rushed over to him, embracing him so tightly he couldn't breathe until she released him what felt like an eternity later.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you! Grimmy told me you were coming, but I didn't believe him. Oh and I didn't believe him when he told me how adorable you are, either, but he was right! Just don't tell him I said that, okay? Oh yeah, I completely forgot, my name's Nelliel, but you can call me Nel or Nelly, that's what Grimmy calls me."

"Um...it's nice to meet you," Ichigo said, a little overwhelmed, and Nelliel smiled even brighter. In response to the woman's attractiveness, the orangette felt a creeping insecurity. "Are you Grimmjow's...girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend? Oh my God, no..." Nelliel shuddered, sticking her tongue out. "Just no. Grimmy and I are like brother and sister, he took me in after I fell," she said.

"Oh, that's nice of him," Ichigo said, contemplating just how hard the green-haired woman must have hit her head in her fall.

"Isn't it? But, anyway, I guess Grimmy hasn't told you about the offer yet?" Ichigo shook his head, and Nelliel tapped a finger to her chin in thought.

"He must want to talk about it over dinner, then. Did he invite you to have dinner with him?" she said, her bubbly personality receding a bit as she seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"Uh, yeah. He said to wait for him in this room until he got here." Ichigo gestured half-heartedly to the room they were standing in, and this seemed to excite Nelliel for some unknown reason as her eyes widened and she clasped her hands underneath her chin.

"And did he say that he had some things to take care of?"

"He said he had to finish up some things before he left...?" Ichigo said, unsure of what that could possibly mean to Nelliel; she looked like she was about to burst.

And then she did, a high-pitched, happy squeal nearly shattering the orangette's eardrums before he was locked into that steel embrace again, struggling to breathe as both the woman's arms constricted around his chest and her bust nearly smothered him to death. Considering he was not very attracted to the female body, this was not an ideal way to go. After several moments of trying to push Nelliel off of him and tell her that he couldn't breathe, she let go in order to start bouncing in enthusiasm.

"Oh, this is _so _exciting! And it's about time too, I've been waiting centuries for this to happen. It's like Grimmy has finally grown up after all this time," she said, pressing a hand to her heart and Ichigo was startled to see her blinking back tears of joy. He was about to ask what this offer was that had her so excited, when she suddenly froze, eyes traveling the length of Ichigo's body, and then pointing a delicate finger to his torso.

"You're not going to wear that, are you?"

"I...uh, yes?" Ichigo said, wondering why she had expected him to wear something else when he clearly had nothing else with him. Nelliel sighed, shaking her head while still looking at the orangette's choice of outfit, which suddenly he was very self-conscious of. But it's not like you can dress modestly when you're in his line of work.

"No, those clothes won't do at all. I know Grimmy probably likes those shorts on you, but I have something much better," the woman said, reaching forward to grab his wrist. She dragged him out of the room and to a set of stairs separate from the main ones in the foyer. Ichigo didn't protest as he was led up to the second floor, which looked like it was even larger than the first, if that was possible.

A hallway floored with the same dark gray marble seemed to stretch on forever, a row of doors on either side until the very end, where there was an arched set of doors with antique doorknockers in the shape of the heads of panthers. Ichigo deduced that must be the master bedroom, but didn't get the chance to ask Nelliel about it before she pushed him into one of the rooms.

It matched the rest of the house, impersonal with beautiful antique furniture, the blue and gray color scheme, and held a double-sized bed and dresser aside from a closet that Nelliel flung open.

"Now, let's see. I think I have just the thing," she said, searching through the rack filled with clothes that all looked designer and really expensive even to Ichigo's untrained eye. "I got it when Grimmy and I went to Kyoto, but the sizing was off, but I just couldn't throw it away because it was so pretty, you know? Good thing I didn't, but, anyway, here, it should probably fit you." Nelliel tugged an item of clothing free from the closet and brought it over to where Ichigo was standing by the dresser.

"When you're done, Grimmy will probably be back, so just go down to the dining room. Just to the left of the stairs, you can't miss it," she said, shoving the fabric into the orangette's arms. "Oh, and you should take off those boots and go barefoot, they won't go at all."

"Okay," Ichigo said, figuring it better than to try and say that he would rather just wear his own clothes. Nelliel seemed like a person that would be impossible to argue with. "Thank you," he said as an afterthought and was rewarded with another bone-crushing hug.

"You're welcome. I'm so glad you're here." Nelliel let him go after a moment, eyes soft, before she gave a small a wave and headed for the door, pausing right before she stepped out. "I hope you say yes, but if not, don't let him down too badly, yes? It would break his heart. "

Confused, but deciding not to ask what she meant by that, Ichigo just nodded once. Then the green-haired woman said "Goodnight, Ichigo Kurosaki" disappearing into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind her. And Ichigo thought that she seemed to say 'Goodnight' with more gravity than he had ever heard before.

Twenty minutes later, he had stripped out of his own clothes and dressed in what turned out to be a kimono-inspired heavy silk kind of robe that was a deep gray-blue and had black lining. It reached to about three inches above his now bare knees and had long, off the shoulder sleeves that went past his hands, and though it was fashioned like a robe someone would wear in the house, the fabric and modern style made it appear a little more formal.

It was a bit effeminate for Ichigo's tastes, it being almost a dress and he usually only saved wearing pretty things like this when he was working, but he could see why Nelliel had picked out for him. It gave him a kind of easy, inviting, almost homey appeal, instead of the vixenish look he had with his usual dark, tight clothing. He was almost tempted to wipe off his make-up, but didn't for fear of only smearing it and making him look like a hot mess.

The marble floor was cold to his bare feet, so he hurried back down the stairs and taking a left like Nelliel had said. He was relieved when he walked right into what must have been the dining room, if the long wooden table with two high-backed chairs on either side was anything to go by. It was then Ichigo came to the conclusion that Grimmjow must have servants living in his house, because the table was set, dinnerware in front of the two chairs on the ends and the candelabra in the center of the runner tablecloth was lit. The scene reminded Ichigo of Beauty and the Beast when the Beast forced Belle to eat dinner with him, the table looking just like this. The comparison made him laugh softly.

"What's so funny?"

For the second time that night, Ichigo's heart stopped as he jumped in surprise, turning narrowed eyes on the person that had startled him. Expectedly, it was Grimmjow, standing only about ten feet away from him, with an entertained expression on his handsome face.

"Don't walk up on me like that," Ichigo said, crossing his arms, suddenly very aware of what he was wearing now that Grimmjow's deep blue gaze was freely taking in the outfit change.

"It's my house, I'll do what I want," the blunette said, then nodding his head in Ichigo's direction. "Where did you get...that?"

"Nelliel said I had to wear it." Ichigo felt a little bit bad about blaming the change of clothing on the woman, but he didn't want Grimmjow to think that he just helped himself to other people's closets whenever he felt like it. Plus there was always the chance that the man didn't like the kimono-inspired robe.

"Oh, yeah? And what else did dearest Nelly say?" Grimmjow walked forward a few steps, and it was then that Ichigo realized just how tall and well-built the other was, but not too much so; he was perfect. He swallowed thickly and licked his lips before answering.

"Something about not breaking your heart, whatever that means."

"Hmm." Grimmjow smiled, closed-lip and a little bitter. "Too late, you've already made your mark there. I don't mind though, you were meant to. "

Ichigo's eyebrows must have touched his hairline the moment after the blunette said those two words. It wasn't as if no one had ever said such a thing to him. In fact, he'd heard too many flattering and affectionate things in the past couple of months. He'd even had a few confessions of love, one confessor being so insistent that Ichigo had been forced to call in a favor from one of Ginjou's muscle men. So why should he be so surprised that Grimmjow would say something like that?

Perhaps it was because it hadn't been said in a moment of lust or physical ecstasy, or with an obsessive, unhealthy undercurrent. It had been simple and honest, and that unnerved him. Grimmjow didn't even know him, and it was just too impossible to believe that anyone could have such feelings for another when they had just met not even two hours beforehand.

"You shouldn't say things like that, Grimmjow," he said after a few seconds, tearing his gaze away from the man before him to look at the marble floor.

"Why not?"

"Because we've only just met each other."

"So?"

"So, you can't say things like that to a stranger. It's not honest," Ichigo said, his frustration showing when he scowled and uncrossed his arms to clench his fists by his side.

"Why isn't it honest?" Grimmjow was persistent, Ichigo would give him that.

"Because...because you can't really have feelings for someone you just met, that's why."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No! I mean yes, but..." The orangette huffed as he brought his gaze up to stare straight into Grimmjow's eyes, that to his surprise didn't look very angry, more...upset. "I've heard it all before from people that I barely know and I guess I just learned over time that whenever someone tells me something like that to tell myself that it wasn't true. That they didn't care about anything other than getting what they paid for."

There was silence for a few seconds and neither one of them moved, even blinked, as they stared each other down.

"Is that why I'm here, so that you can get what you paid for? I don't care, you can tell me, but _don't _try to convince me that you care or that you have feelings for me, because you don't know anything about me." Ichigo was breathing heavy when he was finished speaking and for the first time in a while his face was flushed pink with emotion, and not embarrassment. Grimmjow, however, was as still and stoic as a statue, the only sign that he had been affected at all being his eyes swirling with ire.

"Well, sweetheart, you don't anything about me either, so maybe you shouldn't assume that I would say _things like that_ to just any pretty face," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo realized that they were now only but a hand's breadth apart, close enough to kiss even. "I'm aware I don't know much about you, but that's why I invited you here. I want to get to know you, Ichigo."

"But..._why_? You offered to buy my contract from Ginjou when we had never even met, and then you burned it once you did, and you said it 'for me', but it doesn't make any sense that someone like you would do something like that for someone like me," Ichigo said, not expecting what would come next at _all_.

"I suppose I can only show you, because you wouldn't believe me if I told you why," Grimmjow said, his now familiar egotistical grin returning. "You may want to back up a few steps. Get the full effect, yeah?"

Puzzled, but desperately interested in what the blunette would show him that would make him believe that Grimmjow already had some kind of deep feelings for him, Ichigo did as said and backed a good twenty feet away.

He almost told the man to stop when he saw Grimmjow start to take off his shirt, but then thinking better of it, because who in their right mind would stop someone so drool worthy from stripping in front of them? However, Grimmjow only divested himself of his suit jacket and button-up shirt, revealing a chest and torso that would make Adonis himself green with envy.

Ichigo watched in confusion and then fear as the blue-haired man closed his eyes and stood there until his upper body started shuddering, his shoulders shaking violently.

"Grimmjow, are you-" the orangette started to say but forgot how to use his voice when out of nowhere there was a ripping sound and then wings burst from the man's shoulder blade. _Wings_. Massive, pitch black feathered, arched, beautiful _wings_.

If Grimmjow hadn't moved so fast his figure blurred with speed and caught him, Ichigo would have fallen to the ground in shock, as his knees gave out on him. He was too stunned to even be properly embarrassed of falling into Grimmjow's arms like some kind of damsel in distress, chocolate brown eyes large with amazement as they took in the unbelievable size of the man's wings as he unfurled them, obviously showing off if the smirk on his face was any indication. They had to have a twelve foot wingspan. That was more than two of him put together, Ichigo thought, but all he could say was:

"Why...do you have wings? Are you like some kind of angel or something?" Grimmjow gave a barking laugh to that, throwing his head back before setting Ichigo on his feet, though not taking his hands away from where they were grasping the orangette's upper arms.

"I have to say, I didn't think you would get it right on the first guess. Well, somewhat right, anyway," he said, his wings curling back in so that they were bent in half behind him, though they were far from hidden as the top of their curves was about a foot and a half above Grimmjow's head.

Ichigo was somewhat insulted and baffled. Who _wouldn't _first guess an angel? It was the only possible explanation for the wings and why Grimmjow was so perfect looking.

And that's when it hit him.

"Holy _shit_, oh my God, you're...an angel? Like from heaven and all that?" Ichigo felt like he would fall to the ground yet again, and the blunette must have sensed that because he guided him to the chair closest to them and forcibly sat him down at the table. The orangette then groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Oh fuck, I'm _so _going to hell."

Grimmjow 'tch'-ed, pulling Ichigo's hands away from his face, the latter noticing that not only had the man sprouted wings, but his incisors had lengthened considerably. What, was he some kind of vampire now too? Ichigo hoped not, he didn't think he could take another shock like the whole angel thing.

"Shut up with that bullshit, you're not going anywhere. Now eat, you look half-starved," Grimmjow said, walking to where his own seat lay at the end of the table, only stopping to wave his hand over the candelabra, extinguishing the flames before throwing it to the floor. "Can't see a damn thing with that in the middle of the table."

Before he sat down, the blunette gasped in discomfort as his wings burst into a cloud of sparkling air, like a magician's trick, and disappeared. Ichigo saw the skin on Grimmjow's upper back move and stretch like the wings were now settling back in their resting place, and he also spotted a gothic style number six tattoo on the man's lower back, to the right side and tilted. When the orangette saw that Grimmjow was watching him stare he blushed and looked to the table where his covered dish sat.

Almost immediately he frowned, lifting the metal cover off of the plate to reveal an expensive cut of steak, nearly raw it was so undercooked, and beside it some relatively normal looking mashed potatoes. Ichigo had never been good with food, a picky eater for all of his life until he found something he liked in his system a lot better. He'd nearly abandoned eating all together, only forcing down a fraction of an average meal when his stomach screamed at him to do so. Just looking at the steak made him slightly sick, so he picked at the potatoes with a fork, trying to work up the willpower to eat them.

"I don't think you can win a staring contest with your dinner, Ichigo," Grimmjow said, his voice cuing Ichigo's gaze to snap up to where the man was sitting, chewing on a bite of steak that he'd already devoured half of. "If you want something else, I'll get it for you."

"No!" Ichigo bit his lip, looking to the side. "No, I don't want anything. I can't eat when you still haven't told me why I'm here, you've only told me, or showed me, rather, that you're an...angel."

"Well, I was hoping to save that for after dessert and coffee..." The look Ichigo sent him made Grimmjow grin in amusement, but he apparently decided it was time to stop stringing the other male along, because he put his fork and knife down, his expression turning serious. "Well the first thing is that I'm not exactly an angel. I was one, before I Fell."

"So...you're a fallen angel?" Ichigo said, now understanding what Nelliel had told him earlier about how the bluenette had taken her in after she "Fell."

"Yeah, bound to walk the earth forever and all that," Grimmjow said, waving a hand in the air. "Everyone thinks if you Fall, your life is over because you've been banished from heaven and can never go back."

"You don't sound too broken up about it."

"Tch, I think Falling was the best thing to ever happen to me...besides meeting you that is." Grimmjow said, eyes sparkling with mischief as he teased Ichigo, who wasn't amused.

"You keep telling me crap like that, and you still won't explain why. If you couldn't tell, it's really getting on my nerves," he said, scowling.

"So impatient." The blunette clucked his tongue and leaned forward, placing his chin in his hand. "Fine, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to eat all of the potatoes on your plate."

"What? I'm not a child!" Ichigo said, pushing his plate away from him. "Just tell me already."

"Alright, I guess I'll just have to get you eat another way." Grimmjow gave a long suffering sigh. "The first thing you have to know about Fallen angels is that we live forever, and we don't age, like when we were like the white-winged, halo-wearing ones. Since we were created as angels, not born as humans, we start out exactly as we will always be. We don't change, ever."

At Ichigo's questioning expression, he went on to elaborate.

"Humans change every day, naturally or because of something that happened to them. They age, get wiser, they grow bitter or become nicer. But angels never do any of that, they're kind of like robots, no emotion besides their devotion to God. It's sick, really, but you get it, right?"

"I think so, you're kind of...stuck," Ichigo said, and Grimmjow nodded.

"Yeah, except that when angels Fall, they start to feel some of the weaker human emotions, like humor or boredom." The blue-haired Fallen angel paused for a moment and Ichigo stopped breathing until he started to talk once again.

"And then there have been cases where Fallen angels meet a human that changes everything," Grimmjow said, his voice never faltering for a second and the orangette fisted his hands in the fabric lying over his lap, his heart starting to go into overdrive, beating so fast it seemed to never pause. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Ichigo found his voice again.

"Are you saying...?"

"I first saw you a week ago, the first night Ginjou had his workers in the club. When I saw you, sitting at the bar by yourself, it was like everything clicked into place, like someone had turned the switch to on. I could feel all of the emotions that humans could, and it scared the fuck out of me."

"Grimmjow, I don't know-"

"No, Ichigo, just let me finish," the Fallen angel said. "Please." Ichigo closed his mouth and nodded, more than overwhelmed at that moment and so all too willing to just sit there and absorb just what Grimmjow was saying to him.

"I was scared, and I'd never known fear before, so I left the club and sat in this chair right here for six days. It wasn't until earlier tonight that I realized that I wanted more of the feeling I had whenever I thought of you, so I went back tonight and asked around to see if anyone knew you. Of course, everyone did, and then when I found out you had a contract with Ginjou it wasn't a question of what I had to do."

They sat there in silence for a few long moments. Ichigo didn't have a clue as to what to say and he had to break away from Grimmjow's intense sapphire stare. Reclining in his chair and tilting his head up towards the ceiling, he held up a hand.

"Give me a minute here, this is kind of...well, it's just crazy to be honest," he said, laying his other hand over his forehead. Then he took several deep breaths, trying to quell the hysteria that wanted to respond to the overload of information.

"I know it sounds batshit insane, but there's more to it than that, Ichigo," Grimmjow said and the orangette had to stifle a manic giggle because _of course _there was more. He righted himself in his chair, breathing deeply one last time before nodding.

"Go ahead."

"Remember how I said that this has happened before, to other Fallen angels? Well, I know that because all of us belong to a sort of court, the oldest being the ruler over us all, and then there are the ten Aspects below him."

"Aspects?" Ichigo dreaded the answer, but also was entirely intrigued by the idea of an assembly of Fallen angels being organized in such a manner.

"Short for Aspects of Death, each of the ten named and numbered for the one aspect of death that fit with how he was banished from heaven. That's it really, the rest of the Fallen angels make up the rest of the court but don't have titles. But, what's important-"

"You're one of them, aren't you? An Aspect?" Ichigo said, interrupting whatever Grimmjow had been about to say. The blunette arched an eyebrow, questioning silently why the other thought that. "That's why you have a number six on your back, because you were 'numbered' for one of them, right?"

"Yes, that's right." For some reason, Grimmjow didn't sound too proud of his position as an Aspect, and Ichigo didn't push the subject, deciding it was best to change it back to what the other had been about to say.

"You were going to say something about what's important," he said. The Fallen angel gave a curt nod, his gaze moving away to stare unseeingly into space.

"The court is not what I wanted to talk to you about, but it's a part of the offer I told you about. As I said, there have been Fallen like me and humans like you before, and it was discovered that the Fallen couldn't be content unless they had that human that changed them by their side. So our ruler came up with a way to bend the laws about interacting with humans and invented a title for the humans so they could know about our existence and live with that changed Fallen angel," Grimmjow's eyes snapped back like electric blue lightning. "Forever."

"You mean that human...would live forever?" Ichigo's voice was small, but in awe rather than fear.

"Yes."

"But, how is that even possible?"

Grimmjow didn't answer. Instead he pushed back his chair and stood, slowly walking the length of the table to where Ichigo was still sitting, and the latter couldn't find words when the Fallen angel knelt on both knees by his feet like a slave would a king. It was so very unreal to see Grimmjow in that position that Ichigo wanted to reach out and pull him to his feet, but all coherent thoughts flew out of the window when he saw the glittering blue jewel in the palm of the other's hand.

It wasn't a ring, but rather it was one of the largest natural sapphires attached to a choker length strip of black satin, a silver number six charm dangling from right below the jewel. Normally, Ichigo would have been put off by this romantic display, but no one had ever truly made a gesture like this to him before, so instead he felt appreciated...loved.

"I'd have all the time in the world to answer your questions, if you'd just answer mine. I know this is a lot to ask of you, Ichigo, but I'm sure that I want you to stay with me forever, and that you have to know I don't say shit like that unless I mean it. So...will you?" Grimmjow thrust forward the hand holding the necklace that Ichigo found endearing.

And he didn't even have to think about his answer, because he'd known it all along.

"Okay," he said, taking the piece of jewelry. "I'll stay with you, but I just have one condition." The blunette's lips quirked up into an entertained smile, sparkling eyes betraying the happiness that was still so new to him.

"Oh, yeah? And what would that be?"

Ichigo fastened the choker around his neck, liking the way it snugly in the hollow of his throat. "I don't want us to have sex. Not straight away. I know it sounds stupid because of...what I used to do before tonight, but if I'm going to do this, I want it to be different."

"Hmm, no sex...what about kissing?" Grimmjow said, standing from his position on the floor to tower over the orangette in the chair, placing his hands on the armrests and Ichigo's lungs forgot themselves.

"Kissing's fine."

He'd barely gotten the words out before Grimmjow's lips were on his and were kissing him like he'd never been kissed before, like he'd never even dreamed possible. So many sparks of electricity coursing through him from just the touching of lips, it was bliss, and he moaned when Grimmjow pulled away, eyes fluttering open when he realized he'd shut them.

"I have one condition as well, Ichigo," the blunette said, reaching for Ichigo's left arm and pushing the silk, long sleeve covering it up to the elbow. The orangette cringed as the skin of his inner arm, pale and thin and littered with the black and blue of track marks, the places where he'd pushed a needle through, was exposed for the other to see. "This has to stop."

Terrified by the thought of going without the only thing that had been there for him, but finding a new inner strength that had formed knowing now that someone cared about whether he lived or died, Ichigo simply said "I know."

"I'll be there. I won't leave you by yourself the entire time."

"Even when I start throwing up and cursing you out and breaking things?" Ichigo said bitterly. He'd tried to get clean before.

"Yeah, even then." Grimmjow then pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his back.

"You're the only person who's ever cared," Ichigo said, suddenly exhausted and leaned into the Fallen angel for support.

"You're the only person I've ever cared about. The rest can go fuck themselves." The blunette then led him out of the dining room, up the stairs, and down the hallway to those pair of doors with the panther head door knockers Ichigo had seen earlier. They opened without even the slightest touch to reveal what was, as he had suspected, the master bedroom, and it was obvious what exactly the secret that Grimmjow had mentioned earlier was.

The room was massive, with a separate sitting area away from a raised platform that contained what Ichigo had to assume was the bed and the secret, for it was completely made out of two separate sections of some kind of metal that he'd never seen before and looked like they were meant to come together, encasing the luxurious mattress and midnight blue satin bedding.

"Grimmjow...why is your bed made out of metal?"

"Oh right, almost forgot about that." The other male chuckled softly before speaking again. "A long time ago, there was an angel who Fell and like the stupid prick he was started revealing himself to humans, telling them how we can't stand the sun and have fangs. That started the whole vampire myth."

"You can't go out in the sun?" Ichigo said, now thinking that the bed built like a bomb shelter made more sense now. He followed Grimmjow's lead and sat down on the couch in the sitting area, instinctively leaning into the other.

"I can, just don't like to because it hurts like hell. It's one of the things that happen when we Fall; we're not good enough to be in the holy light of the sun so it feels like we're burning us alive if we step into direct sunlight."

Ichigo cringed, letting his head fall onto Grimmjow's shoulder. It already felt so natural to do it.

"You don't drink blood, do you?"

"No, but you will," the Fallen angel said.

"You're kidding, right?" The orangette lifted his head to stare up to see if Grimmjow was laughing at him for believing such a thing.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but no I'm not. It's the only way to give humans immortality, the blood of an angel." He ran his fingers through Ichigo's sunset colored hair. "Don't look so put out, you only have to do it once."

"Will it be yours?"

"Yes, I wouldn't let some other angel give you eternal life, you know," Grimmjow said and Ichigo laughed softly, putting his head back onto the bare shoulder right next to him.

"Are we going to do it tonight?"

"No, we'll have to wait until you're well. Not just clean, but fattened up a bit too."

Ichigo never thought the day would come when he would feel happy that another person wanted him to 'fatten up', but there he was, smiling so hard his face was in pain.

"That actually sounds kind of nice," he said and Grimmjow hummed in agreement before they fell into a content silence and Ichigo contemplated just how much his life had changed in just a few hours that night. He was going to be free from the iron grip of Ginjou and his own vices, and he would never have to want for anything ever again, because, though it was still unspoken, he knew he had someone who loved him. And in a little time, he could come to love in return. It was so foreign to him, the concept of that kind of all-consuming love, and he knew it was to Grimmjow as well, but he supposed they could learn together.

Their peaceful moment was then interrupted by the doors to the master bedroom flinging open, a sea-foam haired woman in a black dress searching the room wildly until her eyes landed on the choker Ichigo wore around his throat. Her resulting squeal of happiness had both men covering their ears.

"He said yes!" Nelliel jumped up and down in the doorway while Ichigo and Grimmjow exchanged a look.

"If she's a Fallen angel too, how can she be so...emotional?"

"Nelly's just special like that," Grimmjow said, smiling.

"I can't believe it, I'm so happy right now," Nelliel said as tears of joy escaped her eyes.

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Um, so I know some of you may hate me for starting another story, but I just started writing this and couldn't stop. It's also a transition from my usual style into the direction I want to go in. I'm trying to add more dialogue into my stories and eliminate needless detail and adverbs. So, tell me what you think? :)

_For those unfamiliar with the terms "track marks" and "getting clean" and "off-white powder in little translucent bags", Ichigo is addicted to heroin. Next chapter will contain how he reaches sobriety. _


	2. Part II: On Earth

_Beta'ed by the lovely, talented Ldzetc. _

**Sinful Part II**

**On Earth**

...

Withdrawal was hell.

When all of a sudden you stop giving your body the thing it's become dependent on, addicted to- it retaliates, makes you hurt and ache in ways you never thought possible. Ichigo could do nothing but endure it and lay in one of the spare beds and whimper as his entire body was racked with twinges of pain. The nausea and constant irritation he felt only made everything worse.

Sleep evaded him for the first few days, his body so used to the opiate effect that it didn't know how to shut down on its own. He was restless and yet unable to move, tired and yet unable to rest. It was horrific- the way he felt, his body betraying him as it craved, begged for that sweet substance in his veins.

The only bit of comfort he had was Grimmjow and Nelliel. The Fallen angel was by his side almost every second of the day, only leaving when he had to take care of some business that demanded his attendance and even then he would make sure that 'Nelly' stayed with him every waking moment. Ichigo knew it wasn't just for his comfort that he was never left alone; they were worried that he might relapse and leave the apartment in search of the only way to make him feel completely better.

But even still, he was grateful. Though his and Grimmjow's relationship was still so new, and the blunette was growing accustomed to the human emotions, the orangette already felt a deep fondness for the other. He wasn't fazed when he brought Ichigo glasses of water and the boy would weakly try to swat him away, mutter curses, and then empty the contents of his stomach on the expensive bedsheets.

It was somewhat unnatural to have someone look after him for the first time, but at the same time, it felt...nice, even with Grimmjow's unease about showing affection or saying anything more than a single sentence. The behavior confused Ichigo, because that first night the Fallen angel had seemed to have no problem expressing how he felt, or kissing him into oblivion.

"Well, he'd been fighting those new emotions for almost a week, and then he couldn't control them anymore, so he acted on impulse. Now he's probably trying to revert back to what he was like before," Nelliel said when Ichigo asked for her opinion. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess." Ichigo had rolled over onto his side to face the woman then, face pinched. "Is he trying to stop...wanting me around?"

Nelliel sighed heavily before replying, "He couldn't even if he wanted to_._ Once you get better, he'll feel happy again that you're here with him, and then he'll see that human emotions aren't all bad."

"Oh, okay."

"Just work on getting better, Itsygo. Then he'll show you just how much he _wants _you around," Nelliel said teasingly before giggling when the boy pulled the blanket over his head, trying to hide his bright blush. It was really pitiful that he was still so easily embarrassed about such things, considering his former...profession.

That night, or actually very early morning, he was lying awake, unable to sleep because of the alternating chills and hot flashes washing over him. Grimmjow had returned an hour or so before and was sitting in a chair beside the bed, reading something work-related. Suddenly, Ichigo wondered that if Fallen angels couldn't stand the sun why the other wasn't in his bed made out of metal, feeling rather stupid for forgetting.

"Hey, Grimmjow?" he said, scowling to himself afterwards when he heard how unsure and faint he sounded.

"Yeah? Do you need something?" The blunette's rough velvet voice was gruffer than usual and Ichigo turned his head to look at the other, seeing that he was already on his feet and flush with the side of the mattress.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanted to ask you something,"

"Go ahead," Grimmjow said, not moving from beside the bed.

"If you can't be in direct sunlight, why do you stay here during the day? Don't you need to be in your metal bed...thing?"

Instead of answering, Grimmjow simply retrieved something that looked a television remote from his pocket and pressed a button, solid sheets of metal falling over the windows from what the orangette had just thought a bulky curtain rod.

"Didn't you notice them before?" the Fallen angel said and Ichigo felt his cheeks flush in shame.

"No, I've been kind of...out of it," he said. And while that was true, he probably still should've noticed great big, metal curtains over the windows.

"I noticed," Grimmjow said, lips twitching slightly in amusement, but just as suddenly falling back into his normal stoic expression. "Is it getting any better?" Ichigo contemplated lying, but decided that the other could probably tell if he did.

"It's only been a week; the second is supposed to be worse, and then it'll get better, " he said, mentally screaming at the voice inside of his head that told him it would never get better and reminded him of all the times he had tied off the top of his arm with rubber, put the needle to the blue vein and injected that liquid heaven into his blood and felt _alive_.

Grimmjow grunted at the information and returned to his chair.

"Maybe I should bring you someplace where they can help you," he said, drumming his fingers against the armrest.

"No!" The desperation in Ichigo's voice surprised even himself and he watched the blunette's eyebrows lift and eyes widen. "No, don't make me go to..._rehab_. Please, let me stay here."

"I'm not going to make you go anywhere." Regardless of whether or not he meant it to be, Grimmjow's voice was soothing. Ichigo sighed in relief, holding a hand over the heart that had sped up at the thought of going to _rehab_.

"Thank you," he said and the other just hummed in response, looking contemplative as he rested his strong chin on a closed fist, eyes looking far away as he thought over something unknown.

"So if you have the curtain things, why do you need the metal bed?" Ichigo's question was more an effort to try and lighten the mood than honest curiosity, not to mention an attempt to get Grimmjow to talk more about himself. It was uncanny how little the orangette actually knew about the man he had promised to spend forever with.

"Before the technology was around to do shit like this, I had to sleep in places that there was no sunlight," Grimmjow said, rubbing a hand over his chin. "I got used to it, and now I can't sleep unless it's pitch black."

Ichigo nodded in understanding, throwing the blanket off of him as suddenly it felt as if he were roasting in an oven, revealing that he was wearing one of Grimmjow's button-down shirts, so large on his undersized frame it fell to about mid-thigh. The sleeves had to be cuffed several times so that they bunched around his elbows.

There was a prickling feeling all over his skin as he broke out in a sweat and Ichigo used a shaky hand to rid his brow of the moisture, hating how it made his hair stick to his face and neck.

"You want a glass of water?"

"Yes," the orangette said, licking his dry, chapped lips. "Please."

Grimmjow nodded once before disappearing from the room, his movements too fast for the human eye to see. Ichigo could swear every time he did it, there was a faint sound of the ruffling of feathers, though he hadn't seen the blunette's wings since that first night.

When Grimmjow returned barely a moment later, he held out to Ichigo not only a glass of water but an ice pack as well. The orangette slowly pushed himself to a sitting position and took both gratefully, drinking the entire glass in one gulp and then setting the empty thing onto the night table. He pressed the ice pack to his flushed face, sighing at the slight reprieve from the overwhelming heat as he fell back onto the pillows.

"Nelly said you should eat something," the Fallen angel said, frowning. He had yet to sit back in his chair and towered over the Ichigo's prone form.

"I don't want anything. I'll just throw it up."

Grimmjow's brow furrowed, but he didn't press the subject as he returned to his seat. From what Ichigo could see as the man turned the page, whatever he was reading looked like some sort of accounting report. There were lots of numbers, big ones with five or more digits- more confirmation that the Fallen angel had more money than he knew what to do with.

There was a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, as there usually was when it was just the two of them, it worked wonders for the throbbing pain in Ichigo's head. Until he abruptly felt as if he had just been dropped into the Arctic Ocean, cold spreading through every part of his body.

Tossing the ice pack onto the night table as fast as he could, he reached for the blankets and pulled them over his body, shivering while his teeth chattered audibly.

"I'll get you another blanket," Grimmjow said while Ichigo huddled into the mountain of blankets he already had. The orangette thought for about a millisecond and then, before the blunette could leave, he called out for him to wait.

"I'm fine, I don't need another," he said when Grimmjow looked down at him curiously.

"You don't look fine." The Fallen angel's seemingly permanent frown deepened and Ichigo bit his bottom lip. He knew Nelliel had told him to give Grimmjow time to get used to human emotions and the physical gestures that came with them...but if the other had been so comfortable with them that first night then why couldn't he be now? And though Ichigo never much liked being touched, he found himself craving Grimmjow's hands and lips to touch him like that first night. He'd never felt so appreciated and cared for before, and he wanted the feeling again- especially when he felt like he was knocking on death's door.

"I'd feel better if you came and...lay with me," Ichigo said, blushing at his own forwardness. It had always been others that asked, demanded, things of him.

"That would make you feel better?" Grimmjow looked puzzled, one eyebrow raised. Ichigo could swear it was like the other night hadn't even happened, like the man in front of him hadn't knelt at his feet and asked him to be by his side forever... It was a little unnerving.

"Um, it's a human thing, I guess. I thought you might be tired because you've been taking care of me..." he trailed off, turning away from the Fallen angel. "Never mind, forget I said anything," he said forlornly to the wall he was now facing.

"Don't be stupid. I didn't say no, did I?" Grimmjow sounded exasperated; then Ichigo heard once more the faint sound of ruffling feathers. Before he had even fully sat up, his shoulders still shaking as he shivered from the withdrawal chills, the blunette male was back beside the bed, only now dressed just in a pair of midnight blue silk pyjama bottoms. The sight of the bare, toned chest full of perfectly defined muscle and bronzed flesh that Ichigo had been deprived of since Grimmjow had shown him his wings had the orangette suddenly feeling quite warm again.

"You don't have to...lay down with me, I know you're not really the, uh, touchy-feely type," he said, sputtering as he held out a hand.

The other male smirked, putting one knee on the bed. "I didn't change for nothing, so move over."

"But-"

"Ichigo," Grimmjow said. "Move. Over."

The orangette scowled at being interrupted and told what to do, but scooted his body over to one side so the blunette had room to lay down beside him. Grimmjow wasted no time as he gracefully reclined on his back over the covers, putting his hands under his head so that his torso was deliciously stretched out for Ichigo's viewing pleasure as he lay on his side in order to face the other.

"I need to get used to this, anyway."

"Get used to what?" Ichigo said, confused as to what Grimmjow could be talking about.

The Fallen angel turned his head to the side so that his sapphire blue eyes bore into Ichigo's coffee brown as he spoke. "Being close with someone, and not minding it."

"Oh," was all the slighter male said, wondering if he should be flattered that he was the first person Grimmjow didn't mind being physically close to, or insulted that he had to get used to it.

"I know that I've been acting differently than the other night," the blunette said, turning his head back to stare up to the ceiling. "But I don't feel any differently about you than what I did then. I want you here with me."

"Oh, that's...nice to know," Ichigo said softly, a warm ache in his chest that didn't have anything to do with his withdrawal appearing at the declaration of Grimmjow wanting him.

There was a long moment of silence before the Fallen angel spoke again. "I still don't know how to deal with the human emotions you gave me, and the past week, when you've been sick, I've been feeling..." Grimmjow trailed off, brow furrowing in concentration.

"Bad?"

"I guess. I don't know what it's called...I just don't like seeing you like this." Grimmjow turned onto his side to face Ichigo, but their bodies were still a good two feet apart in the large bed. "That's because I..._care_ about you, right?"

"I think so, humans don't like to see the ones we care about in pain," Ichigo said, the warmth in his chest spreading over his entire body. He could have said at that moment that the other's way of expressing his newly found emotions could grow to be his new addiction.

"Makes sense," Grimmjow said under his breath, looking down at the powder blue bed sheet. "So once you get better, I'll feel like I did before." It was more of a conclusion than a question, but Ichigo answered anyway.

"Hopefully," he said, laughing a little for the first time in days. "Otherwise I'd be homeless."

"Don't say things like that," the blunette said, his gaze going back to look at the younger male's face thoughtfully. "Hmm..." he hummed, obviously contemplating something.

"What are you-" Ichigo started to say but lost his voice when Grimmjow placed broad hands behind his neck, bringing him forward in a quick, fluid motion. Their lips met roughly; the orange-haired male letting out a whimper as he was kissed soundly by the Fallen angel, the high that coursed through his body felt better than anything else he had experienced before. It was like Grimmjow was pouring every bit of the tidal wave of emotion he felt and didn't understand into his kiss, like Ichigo could help him make sense of it all.

The slighter male pulled away first, feeling lightheaded as he panted for air and Grimmjow's grip on the back of his neck held fast as the other nuzzled the crook of his neck.

"Now I remember," the blunette said, voice husky. "I like what I feel when I touch you, kiss you...It's different."

"Yeah," Ichigo said, sighing and letting his eyes flutter open. "I like it too."

"When you said you didn't want to have sex straight away, because you wanted this to be different...is this what you meant?" Grimmjow said, pulling away to let his head next to Ichigo's on the pillow. The orangette blushed brightly for what must have been the thousandth time that day, cheekbones stained an enticing cerise.

"Kind of. It already is different because I've never been in a real relationship before," he said, unwilling to look into the other's eyes as he explained himself. "And before you came and bought my contract, the past few months were all about...sex."

Grimmjow grunted, withdrawing his hands to curl them into fists.

"I wish I would have met you before you got sucked into that world. Then you wouldn't have had to do anything you didn't want to." He didn't give enough time for Ichigo to respond before he continued on. "And I can wait." A lascivious smile spread across his lips then. "I'll just think about you when I take care of things myself in the meantime," he said, chuckling darkly at the orangette's reaction when he did.

"Whatever," Ichigo said when the other had finally ceased his laughter. He suddenly felt the past few nights of sleeplessness catch up with him then and he yawned, eyelids drooping.

"Do you want me to stay here while you sleep?" Grimmjow shifted back slightly like he was expecting an answer in the negative, until Ichigo's hand reached out and gripped the blunette's larger hand in his own.

"Stay."

When the blue-haired Fallen angel nodded and lay there stiffly, he gathered up the last reserve of energy he had to press their bodies together. Feeling the other male relax into the touch, he let his head and shoulders drape over the exposed chest.

Ichigo was blithe to find that laying intertwined like this with someone was really as divine as everyone else made it out to be. Right before he finally drifted off into unconsciousness, he felt and heard the distinctive sound of a heartbeat beneath him.

"I didn't know you had a heartbeat," he said, slurring his words a bit.

"I didn't, not before you," was the last thing he heard before he finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The first week was excruciating, and just as suspected the second was even worse. It had only been with desperate pleas that he was able to convince Grimmjow not to take him to a hospital or...<em>rehab<em>. The word itself made Ichigo shudder in revulsion.

But by the end of that terrible second week he felt well enough to actually try and walk around the apartment a bit. It was the first time he had been alone in almost a month and he found himself missing the company of Nelliel and even more so, Grimmjow; which was odd as he had been such a solitary creature before.

Brushing aside the thought, he explored around the massive penthouse apartment. He figured he had the right to poke around a little, considering he now lived here too. His clothes and the few personal items he had moved from his hovel of a studio apartment to the space he shared with Grimmjow.

"I'm a kept man now," Ichigo said to himself as he opened another door only to find another beautifully furnished room. _So boring_... "Ha, who would've guessed that would happen?"

"Talking to ourselves are we, Itsygo?"

Turning narrowed eyes on Nelliel, he spun around, a hand over his heart that had skipped a beat because of her sudden appearance. She just smiled cheerfully at him, unfazed. Ichigo noticed that she was dressed rather formally in a midnight blue floor length, boat neck dress with long sleeves that came to a point over the backs of her hands. Her long hair was also pulled up into a sleek bun, only her bangs free to fall over her forehead.

"Are you ever going to stop sneaking up on me like that?" Ichigo pouted as he folded his arms across his chest, trying his best to sound stern.

"Probably not," Nelliel said. "But I actually came to tell you to get dressed- we have guests coming over."

"I already am dressed, and who's coming over?"

The green-haired woman ignored his question, instead looking over his choice of outfit of one of Grimmjow's dress shirts and cotton shorts, before shaking her head and sighing.

"You really are hopeless, Itsygo. Didn't Grimmy tell you anything about our court and High Lord?"

"Well, yeah...he mentioned it the first night. He said the Fallen are organized into a court with a supreme ruler, is that the High Lord? Oh, and he said there were ten Aspects under him. I sort of figured out he was one because of his tattoo," Ichigo said, tapping a finger to his lip and looking upwards as he tried to remember anything he might have forgotten.

"But did he tell you anything about our customs? Traditions? Dress code?"

Ichigo shook his head in the negative and Nelliel made a fist to bring down into the palm of her hand, a determined expression crossing her face.

"I swear, that man...Oh, I guess I'll just have to give you a crash course," she said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind her just like the first night he had spent there. In her haste, she nearly pulled his arm right out of the socket before they made it to the room Ichigo knew to be her bedroom. Before he could comprehend what was going on, she used her inhuman strength to sit him on the chair in front of her vanity. "Here, you put on some make-up, you look like death warmed over. I'll go look for something for you to wear."

"I don't want to put on makeup," Ichigo said, pouting like a child. "I only did before because Gin-...my boss made me."

"Ichigo," Nelliel said in a stern motherly tone, holding one pointer finger up. "No one likes wearing makeup and I know you don't feel well, but today you _have _to make a good impression. Now make yourself look like you're not dying and I'll explain why."

He gave a long suffering sigh before turning to face the mirror and the seemingly endless supply of beauty products spread out over the antique vanity in disarray. Ichigo smirked as he imagined what Grimmjow would say if he saw the amount of nail polish that had been spilled onto the priceless piece of furniture.

"Okay, so when other members of the court come to visit, it's usually pretty casual," Nelliel's voice said from the walk-in closet as she shifted through the racks of clothes. "But today the High Lord is coming. He's a_ huge_ stickler for tradition, so we're having a formal tea service in the dining room. This will be his first time meeting you and you're going to have to do everything perfectly in order to make him like you- and he _has _to like you."

"So what do I do?" Ichigo said, reluctantly putting on concealer under his eyes to hide the dark circles there. He had gotten used to not having to care about how he looked and not having to go through the painstaking process of painting his face. He'd never really liked it in the first place, only when he needed an ego boost every now and then.

"Well, it's tradition for the Consort of the Fallen to serve the tea... but you're not technically one yet since you haven't been given eternal life so I'm going to do it today. But next time, you'll be expected to do it."

"Oh..." Ichigo sat straight up in his chair. "Wait, why is it tradition for me to serve the tea?"

Nelliel emerged from the closet then, placing whatever she had picked out for him on her bed before walking to stand behind him. Ichigo put down the brush he had been using back on to the vanity, done making himself look like he hadn't just gone through two weeks of agony. The woman behind him nodded in approval, muttering something about his hair to herself before finally answering the question.

"It's a supremacy thing with the High Lord. He thinks angels are superior to humans, so he expects the Consorts to act subservient to their Fallen and all of the others as well," she said, threading her fingers through sunset colored locks.

"So I have to act like some kind of slave when he's around? And you keep saying 'Consort', is that what I am?" Ichigo winced as his hair was treated a bit roughly as the green-haired Fallen angel tried to make his hair not so wild; a losing battle as the rebel strands continued to spike out and upwards around his face.

"Oh God, Grimmy really didn't tell you anything, did he? 'Consort' is the formal title for a human that changed a Fallen, so yes, that's what you are,. Or actually, what you will be once he turns you immortal." Nelliel picked a bobby pin from between her teeth to hold some of Ichigo's shoulder length hair in place. She huffed indignantly when the pin couldn't hold and popped out.

"It's not going to work. Can't we just leave my hair the way it is?" Ichigo said. "And you didn't say whether I had to act like a slave or not."

"I guess we'll have to and just hope the High Lord doesn't mind the bedhead style," Nelliel said, pulling her hands away from the orange mess of hair."And no, you don't have to act like a slave, just...eager to please, and quiet. Don't say anything unless you're directly asked a question and if you can manage it, look down the entire time. The High Lord thinks it's a sign of respect."

"Sounds like a slave to me." Ichigo bit the inside of his lip. He _really _didn't like it when he was told to be quiet. "I don't want to have to act like that again," he said quietly, scowling at himself in the mirror.

"I know, Itsygo...but it's only for an hour. Now suck it up and put this on." Nelliel thrust the item she had brought from the closet into his hands and the orangette held it up to get a good look at it.

It was the same midnight blue as what Nelliel was wearing, made out of a heavy silk, with a Mandarin style collar that opened into a slight v shape, a thin strap buttoned across the opening, still loose enough to show off a considerable amount of his collarbone and throat. The sleeves were three quarter length and the hemline was only long enough to reach to about his mid-thigh. While the woman seemed pleased by her choice; Ichigo wasn't as thrilled.

"I can't wear this, it's basically a dress!" he said, eyes wide. He had never worn a dress before, not even when he'd worked for Ginjou.

"It's not a dress, it's a _tunic._" Nelliel sniffed before folding her arms. "Men used to wear tunics all the time and all the male Consorts wear them, I'll have you know."

"I don't care if it's a tunic! I can't wear this..." Ichigo trailed off as he tried to come up with a reason that wouldn't contradict all of the other things he did and wore that were considered effeminate.

"Too bad," Nelliel said, smiling devilishly. "Now put it on and then come downstairs. Besides, I'm sure Grimmy won't be able to keep his hands to himself." She giggled behind her hand before slipping out of the room, leaving Ichigo alone with the 'tunic' or whatever it was.

After wondering if he could get out of going to this stupid tea thing by playing up his withdrawal symptoms, he decided that if what Nelliel said was true, then he would have to wear something like this eventually so he may as well get it over with.

Before he left the room to go downstairs, he looked himself over in the full length mirror. While the tunic actually didn't look so...dress-like when it was on him, he was still discouraged by what he saw staring back at him. He almost didn't recognize himself; he knew he'd never been so thin before, having lost another few pounds in the past two weeks as any mention of food had and still made him sick to his stomach. The richly colored tunic was loose on him, the open collar exposing his vastly protruding collarbone, and being so thin made his head and eyes look too large for his body. Not to mention, though he'd done the best he could to mask the signs of ill health, the unhealthily pale pallor of his skin was still noticeable.

He looked fragile, like if someone were to just to touch him he'd break, like a porcelain doll.

And he hated it.

Ichigo couldn't turn and make his way to the dining room fast enough and when he'd finally made it there, he already felt exhausted and lightheaded, his legs burning in protest.

"Ichigo...you okay?" A rough velvet voice asked and he didn't have to look up to know who it was, but he did anyway.

Grimmjow was standing by the dining room's fire place, dressed in an expensive black suit with a tie the same color as what he and Nelliel were wearing, a frown marring his perfect face. The blunette's surrogate sister was a few feet away by a fine silver tea tray, looking at the orangette with concerned eyes.

"Yeah, just tired," Ichigo said, waving the both of them off. He then sat in the chair closest to him, the very same high-backed chair at the end of the table he'd sat in when Grimmjow had asked for him to be his immortal lover. However, he hadn't convinced the Fallen angel, who was currently walking over to him briskly, taking one hand out of his pant pockets to place on Ichigo's back as he bent to close the distance between them. He'd been getting much better at physical gestures of affection since that night they'd laid in bed together, though kisses had been few in number.

"You can go back upstairs, if you want. I'll them you aren't feeling well enough to receive company," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo had to remind himself that the man had lived on earth for longer than he could possibly imagine and so was used to saying things like "receiving company."

"No, I'm fine, really." Ichigo held up his hands and smiled in what he hoped was a convincing way. "Besides Nelliel told me it's a really big deal that the High Lord was coming and that he has to like me, and I don't think he would appreciate me lying in bed when he comes to visit."

"But I don't want you to make yourself even worse. Fuck what anyone appreciates, I'll-"

"Grimmjow, he's right," Nelliel said, interrupting. "The High Lord won't like it if Itsygo isn't here, and you _know_ how he gets. He'll forbid you from making Itsygo your formal Consort if he decides he doesn't like him."

"He can do that?" Ichigo's chocolate brown eyes widened in shock as he looked from Grimmjow to Nelliel and back again.

"Yes, it hasn't been done before...but he could forbid it if he wanted to," the woman finally said. "As long as you play the part of silent Consort, everything will be fine."

"Yeah, I'll keep my mouth shut," Ichigo said bitterly, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands, elbows propped up on the table. The hand still in between his shoulder blades rubbed his back in a hesitant manner, making him feel slightly better. He was doing this so that he would be able to live forever with the only person who'd ever cared about him- even if that person was still new to caring about someone else. But that was okay, taking it slow was really different for Ichigo...and nice. _Really nice._

"If you pass out at the table," Grimmjow's mouth was right by his ear, his cool breath that smelled like peppermint tickling the sensitive flesh there. "I'll tie you to the bed and make you stay there for a week," he said, laughing under his breath mirthfully when Ichigo shivered at the promise. Despite what he thought about taking it slow, when the Fallen angel did things like that it made it very, _very_ difficult.

"Sir," a man's impassive voice said from the doorway. "Your guests have arrived."

"Show them in," Grimmjow said, as he righted himself, walking to stand by Nelliel who gestured for Ichigo to join them. The orangette carefully made his way over to where they were standing, not wanting to make himself dizzy again.

"When they come in, the High Lord will be at the front. We both bow like this, and he'll tell us to rise." Nelliel bent in half, one hand on her stomach and one on the small of her back. "Then we'll sit down, and you take the seat to the left of Grimmjow, okay? If anyone wants to address you directly, they won't do it until then. Oh, and remember, eyes down, mouth closed."

Reluctantly, Ichigo nodded. Though it was degrading, it wouldn't be hard to remember what he was supposed to do. And he could do it if it meant securing his position as Grimmjow's Consort.

Just as they both faced the entrance to the dining room once again, the double doors swung open to reveal four people. Ichigo briefly caught a glimpse of a tall man with brown hair at the front and maybe someone with pink hair behind him, before he remembered to bow, doing so like had Nelliel had shown him. He peeked to the side to see that she was bowing as well, but Grimmjow was still upright, most likely because of his position as an Aspect. Ichigo made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Lord Aizen," Grimmjow said from above him. His tone was respectful, but forced and it was obvious to the orangette that the Fallen angel didn't really like his ruler.

"Grimmjow," the mildest voice Ichigo had ever heard said. "It's been too long, thank you for allowing me and the others to drop in on such short notice. I know you've been busy lately, with your...human business ventures."

"It was my pleasure." The pleasantry sounded incredibly unnatural and fake coming from the blunette but apparently Lord Aizen didn't notice, or pretended not to, because he continued on with his small talk.

"I see you still have little Nelliel as your charge," the High Lord said. "You can rise, my dear. Has Grimmjow been good to you since I delegated you to be his responsibility?"

"Yes, Lord Aizen, " Nelliel said. Ichigo almost rose when she did, but decided against it as the Fallen angel hadn't told him he could directly. "He's been a great mentor. I've learned everything about living on earth from him."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Perhaps soon I will give you majority status and you will be able to live on your own."

"That would make me very happy, Lord Aizen," Nelliel said, sounding incredibly monotonous.

"Good, good. Let's sit down and talk some more- I'm eager to hear all about your new nightclub, Grimmjow."

The shuffling of feet made Ichigo's face burn with both outrage and embarrassment. He was still bent in half, one hand on his back and one on his stomach, his spine starting to ache from being like such for so long. Had the High Lord really just blatantly ignored him?

When hand on his elbow tugged at him to stand up, he saw that Grimmjow was leading him toward the dining table, where the four guests had all been seated. Lord Aizen was placed at the end while the others took the seats on either side, leaving the other end chair and the seat to the left of it empty.

Ichigo didn't have to remember to keep his eyes on the ground as Grimmjow led him to the seat to the left of the end chair, where the blunette sat. He was ashamed and angry that he'd been ignored like that. _So what if he was just a weak little human? Didn't he still deserve to be treated like he actually existed?_

In his peripheral vision, Ichigo spotted Nelliel bringing the tea tray over to the table and guessed she would have to stand the entire time, as there was no other seat for her. He felt guilty because he was supposed to be the one serving the tea and acting like hired help, as tradition dictated.

He could also see that to his right was a slender man with the pink hair he had spotted earlier, and across from them were a blonde woman with mocha-like skin and a rather pale man with black hair. He couldn't make out their faces terribly well as his gaze was firmly set on the table below him.

"So, tell me Grimmjow, how is your business venture going?" Lord Aizen's voice was disturbingly even. It had never changed once since he'd first spoken, and Ichigo found it rather unnerving, though he remembered what Grimmjow had told him about angels, how they were practically robots and most remained that way even after they Fell. He and Nelliel were exceptions to the rule.

"Well, thank you." The blunette's answer made Ichigo smile softly to himself.

"Nothing to add to that summary?"

"I'm making lots of money," Grimmjow said blandly, clearly enjoying evading the High Lord's questions. Apparently he wasn't the only one because the man next to Ichigo giggled, sounding rather effeminate. However, he didn't say anything after, and the orangette could see in the corner of his eye that the man picked up his teacup to sip at it.

Ichigo's eyes swiveled slightly to see that his own teacup had been filled; Nelliel managing to do it without him noticing. He wondered if he should take a sip, but ended up keeping his hands in his lap, not sure if the almighty Lord Aizen would be offended by him drinking tea if he wasn't supposed to.

"That wouldn't be because of all the illegal activity going on in your club, would it?" the High Lord said, causing Ichigo to tense.

"Maybe." Grimmjow didn't back down from the obvious challenge. "I turn a blind eye to what they're doing, they spend money in my club, and everyone gets what they want."

"I suppose I can't fault your business sense, my sixth Aspect...but I did hear that there was a high price prostitution ring using your club as a place to meet potential clients. Is that true?"

Ichigo felt like he was going to be sick as he moved his hands from his lap to clutch at the sides of his chair. Underneath the table Grimmjow's leg brushed against his own, but it didn't help to alleviate the dread he felt.

"It seems like you already know the answer." The blunette's tone was like steel, but Ichigo could feel the ire rolling off of him in waves.

Lord Aizen didn't miss a beat, not responding exactly to Grimmjow's accusation, but revealing that he did indeed already know the answer.

"I'm disappointed in you, Grimmjow. I thought you knew better, but I suppose now you'll force them out of your club...considering your Consort to be was a member of that same ring up until two weeks ago, am I right?"

Ichigo felt like he would die- right then and there. He didn't have to remind himself to maintain eye contact with the ground because his head was hung in shame out of its own accord. He didn't have to remind himself to stay silent, because he didn't have anything to say for himself. The sound of the chair to his left being knocked to the ground as Grimmjow stood didn't even faze him, nor did the shaking of the table when the man slammed his hands on the table.

"Don't. Come. Into my house. And talk about him. Like that." Ichigo could tell that the Fallen angel was restraining himself, the words not the ones he really wanted to say and said in a choked, forceful manner, the undercurrent being that of a tempest, wild and unstoppable. He supposed he should be flattered that Grimmjow would stand up for him to his ruler, but all he could think about was how he wanted to just disappear from that dining room.

Lord Aizen's response stunned them all.

"Well done, Grimmjow," he said, clapping his hands politely. "I didn't believe it when I heard you'd seen the human that gave you the ability to feel their emotions, so I had to test you, to be sure. You pass with flying colors, my dear Aspect."

Ichigo barely registered the words, frozen with shock. And this time, he barely managed to restrain himself from looking up to see the man's face. Did he really say all of that, revealing his past, just to get a rise out of Grimmjow and confirm that he really could feel human emotions?

"You are also due credit, Lord Aizen," the pink-haired man beside him. "I don't think I've ever seen a changed Fallen react so violently after such a short time experiencing the vast array of human emotion."

"Thank you, Szayel. I did have to gather a good amount of information in order to pull it off." Lord Aizen sighed. "You can sit down now, Grimmjow. I won't say anything negative about your new human lover. In fact, I'm quite impressed with his ability to not say a thing or even look up when I revealed his dark secret to the room."

After a moment, the blunette retrieved his chair from the floor in a blurred movement. He didn't hesitate to reach for Ichigo's hand under the table, their fingers lacing together.

"However, may I ask why he has abstained from the tradition of serving tea?"

"Ichigo's been...ill since his first night here. This is the first day he's been out of bed, so he didn't have time to learn from Nelliel," Grimmjow said, giving the orangette's hand a squeeze under the table.

"I see. Perhaps he should be looked over by someone? I'm sure you're aware that Szayel here has studied human medicine for centuries now. If you would, my eighth Aspect?" Lord Aizen directed the last part to the pink-haired man.

"Of course, if it's alright with Grimmjow."

Ichigo scowled down at his lap. It bothered him how they didn't even think to ask him if it was alright with _him_, the person who would be 'looked over' by an inhuman doctor he didn't even know.

"It's fine by me," Grimmjow said, tone bereft of any earlier emotion he had felt earlier. Ichigo knew he had surprised himself, again, with how he reacted to things that had never affected him before, now trying to suppress all of what he was feeling.

"Good, good. In fact, why don't we let Szayel look over your Consort to be right now? Then he could be finished when we are and leave with us to return to the court." Lord Aizen made it sound like a suggestion, but Ichigo had a feeling that said it was more of an order.

Grimmjow must have nodded his head in agreement because the next second he let go of the orangette's hand accompanied by the sound of the pink-haired man rising from his chair. Hesitantly, Ichigo rose, a bit nervous of going into another room with an unknown immortal being, but taking into consideration that if Grimmjow was allowing it, it must be fine.

Not looking up at the rest of the group more out of residual embarrassment at his revealed secret than abiding by Lord Aizen's traditional view of the subservient human Consort, he followed the pink-haired man, Szayel, out of the dining room and into the sitting area, where the wall of glass showed the nighttime city skyline.

"Such a wonderful view, isn't it...Ichigo? Is that right? Oh, and you don't have to look down anymore for Christ's sake, you look absolutely pitiful."

Ichigo turned a stony glare at the Fallen angel named Szayel, miffed at being called pitiful. He saw that the man had dark yellow eyes behind white-framed glasses, and wore a tightly fitting suit with a thin tie that matched his hair.

Szayel smiled somewhat maniacally at him before sitting down on one of the gray couches, patting the space next to him."Sit down, then, and tell me what's been ailing you."

Ichigo sat on the couch as far away from the other as he could get.

"It wouldn't matter if I told you, you can't help me."

"And why is that?" Szayel readjusted his glasses with an elegant motion, now looking thoroughly piqued by the orangette's statement. He ran his calculating gaze over Ichigo's body that made the latter feel like a specimen under a microscope. He shivered involuntarily, wrapping his arms around himself. But he figured if he just told the Fallen angel the truth, then this could be over with and he could retreat to his bed upstairs.

"I was using heroin every day until I stopped a little over two weeks ago. I haven't been feeling so peachy since," he said, gaging Szayel's reaction, who didn't look fazed at all.

"Ah, well I suppose that's why Grimmjow hasn't given you eternal life, yet. The withdrawal symptoms are rather uncomfortable, but the worse should be over if you haven't used in over two weeks. However, they will still appear until six weeks after your last use of the substance."

"Shit," Ichigo breathed. He hadn't known that he would be feeling this way for so long. He had another _month _to go before he felt completely better.

"Don't look so frightened, my dear boy. Like I said, the worst is over, but the lesser of the symptoms, hot flashes, chills, mild insomnia, loss of appetite, those won't completely go away until after the six weeks is over."

The orangette just nodded minutely, eyes glazing over as he tried to think of what life would be like after four more weeks. He and Grimmjow would be closer by then, and he'd be immortal, never having to worry about anything ever again.

"I also noticed you are underweight." Szayel's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, I...don't eat much," Ichigo said, feeling insecure that it was so obvious.

"I can see that, but you must start. I can tell just from looking at you from over here, that you need to put on about fifteen to twenty pounds and have a protein deficiency. You'll have to fix that before you're given eternal life. Once you go through the ritual, just like angels, your body won't change."

"So what do I do?" Ichigo said, eyes narrowing in irritation when Szayel laughed heartily, waving a hand like what he had said was just oh so funny.

"What do you think, my dear boy? You eat food, and plenty of it, especially those with high protein to correct the deficiency that's making your nails so brittle," the pink-haired male said, pointing to where Ichigo's hands were lying in his lap. Then he stood, brushing imaginary dust off of himself. "Well, Ichigo, it's been a real pleasure... but I think the others are just about to leave, so I must bid you adieu."

"Yeah...same. Bye."

"We'll meet again, I'm sure," was the last thing Szayel said before gliding through the doorway back to where the dining room was.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long he sat there, inspecting his nails, when Grimmjow finally entered the room, clearly looking for him. The orangette sighed at the sight of the Fallen angel that had turned his entire life upside down, having never gotten used to the perfection that was Grimmjow.

"So, what did Szayel tell you?"

"The withdrawal symptoms will last for about six weeks. Oh, and I need to eat more," Ichigo said as the other sat on the couch beside him, reclining and spreading his legs as if exhausted by the visit from his ruler and peers.

"Tch, I tell you that all the time," Grimmjow said, upper lip curling back to let one sharp canine peek through. "Medical degree my ass."

The human male laughed at that as the Fallen angel looked pleased with himself for making him do so. It was rather endearing.

"When I left the room did _Lord Aizen _forbid you from making me your Consort because I didn't get out a basin and sponge and start washing his feet?" Ichigo said after a while, causing Grimmjow to snort.

"No, believe it or not he thought you were a nice, quiet little human."

"So...six more weeks then?"

"Yeah, six more weeks."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Another chapter! I'm a little unsatisfied with the general plotlessness of it, but to all those who wanted this story to be longer than I originally intended, you got your wish! It won't be epic length, but it won't be short either.

And I know I say this all the time, but to every last one of you that reviewed or added this to their favorites/alerts; I love you, for serial. You guys are so awesome and I wasn't expecting such a positive response because of how Ichigo is portrayed in this story.

However, an anonymous reviewer last chapter did seem put off by Ichigo dressing effeminately, and while I value every single reader's opinion and want to make them happy, I am still going to write this into the story. It's not crucial, but it's still somewhat important to Ichigo's characterization because he's always being objectified by others, e.g. Ginjou, who made him dress in such a way for business, and by proxy, Aizen, to symbolize his status as a Consort and subservience perceived by Aizen and some of the other Fallen.

I hope I've made it clear that he is not transsexual, because he's very happy being a male, he just has to dress like such out of obligation. And I've tried to make sure what he wears isn't too...kitschy. Yes, he wears short shorts and "tunics", but he's not about to put on a tube top, skirt, and five-inch heels. Plus, when he's not in a situation that demands it, he dresses fairly normally, as seen in this chapter when Nelliel makes him change clothes.

I never meant to offend anyone or even have anyone be turned off of the story because of it, but that's how the story has been written so far and it shall remain that way. Oh, yes, and I've had a great amount of fun writing about Ichigo being stuffed into those revealing outfits.

And to that anonymous reviewer, I'm sorry, hon! You were so kind in your review, I feel terrible. :(


	3. Part III: Hell Hound

**Sinful Part III**

**Hell Hound**

Beta'ed by Ldzetc**. **

* * *

><p><em>An angel led me when I was blind<em>

_I said take me back, I've changed my mind_

_Now I believe_

_From the blackest room, I was torn_

_He called my name, a love was born_

_So I believe_

* * *

><p>The next night, for the first time in over two weeks, Ichigo woke from a fitful sleep to find that he was completely alone.<p>

He lay there for a few moments in a sleep-dazed state, wondering where Nelliel and Grimmjow were before the strangeness of the situation urged him to find out. Throwing the blankets off of himself, he swung his long legs off of the bed and feebly stood up, heated skin almost sighing in relief at the cool air.

The underused muscles in his calves protested painfully as Ichigo padded across the room's dark hardwood floors, stopping before the mirror above the dresser. He frowned heavily at his reflection. The young man used his fingers to somewhat subdue his wild mane of tangerine hair and even used them to pinch at his pale cheeks in order to bring some color into them. He noted with pleasure that his eyes were regaining some of that youthful spark that belonged to someone only eighteen, looking more like warm, melted pools of chocolate rather than the flat, pin-prick pupil orbs of an opiate addict.

Ichigo considered changing out of his clothes into something a little more... appropriate, but the only things he had with him were the short shorts and skin-tight tops that were the staples of a teenage male prostitute's wardrobe. So, Grimmjow's over-sized button up shirt and flannel pyjama bottoms it was then.

The orangette walked out of his bedroom wondering if once his withdrawal symptoms had subsided, he would move into Grimmjow's room and stay there. Surely if the other intended for them to be lovers, for the rest of eternity, then they would share a bed at some point and not just in the literal sense...

After a few minutes of searching, Ichigo found Grimmjow in the sitting room; and the sight of the blue-haired angel Fallen from grace rendered him speechless.

His mouth and throat dry, his heart throbbing so heavily in his rib cage it was brutalizing the bone there, he drank in the vision of pure beauty that doubtlessly few mortal souls had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Clad only in a pair of dark-wash jeans that hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing the cut of his hipbones and just the very top of the swell of his backside, Grimmjow was standing by the wall of glass with one arm braced against it as he stared out at the city's glittering night skyline. His stunning raven-feathered wings were extended to their full wingspan of over twenty feet, the pitch black of the feathers luminescent as they reflected the city lights.

That same artificial glow was apparent in the blue-haired angel's ultramarine eyes that lay under the furrowed brow that made Grimmjow's perfect, ethereal face appear darkly contemplative. And those lights danced over the lines and planes of his flawlessly chiseled upper body, strong chin, straight nose, magnificent cheekbones, and the sky-blue locks of immaculately mussed hair.

He was an unearthly vision, like something out of a romantic fantasy, but even more perfect. Even if the entire world were burn to ashes around them, Ichigo wouldn't be able to tear his eyes away.

"You're up early," the rough voice of the Fallen angel said, cutting through Ichigo's salacious thoughts. The mortal had to shake his head for a good few seconds before his hypnotic state had receded enough for him to be able to speak.

"Y-yeah, I just...woke up earlier today, er, tonight, I mean." Ichigo bit his lip and averted his eyes. After adjusting to Grimmjow's nocturnal schedule it felt like it was early morning even thought the antique grandfather clock indicated that it was just past seven in the evening,

"Everything alright?" Grimmjow said, pushing himself away from the wall of glass. As the other approached, the orangette wondered how he hadn't noticed that first night just how _massive _Grimmjow's wings were. They were so... commanding, and made him feel small, frail...and decidedly mortal.

Ichigo cleared his throat, feeling warmth flood his face like it did every time he was near the blunette. He felt like a young girl with their first high school crush; he was so easily flustered and insecure around Grimmjow.

"Yes, when I woke up neither you or Nelliel, were there, so I decided to see where you guys were," he said.

"Were you expecting me to be there?"

"Well, yeah, because you were always right there whenever I woke up, so I thought maybe something exciting had happened. I didn't want to...you know, miss out." Ichigo gave a short laugh and then promptly shut up, and to his surprise Grimmjow smirked.

"Okay, Ichigo," he said, royal blue eyes gleaming in mirth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The orangette put his hands on his hips and scowled up at the other.

"Nothing at all," Grimmjow said, folding his arms while his wings ruffled a bit. "Nelly's gone to visit with some friends. The Third Aspect's charges demanded she go over and tell them all about us."

"Us?"

"More specifically you. Consorts only come along every hundred years, give or take a decade, and male ones are rare," the Fallen angel said.

Ichigo took his hands away from his hips and fiddled with the hem of the borrowed shirt he was wearing. "So it's just you and me tonight, then?"

He was suddenly aware of how close Grimmjow had come to stand by him, their bodies not even two feet apart, and he could smell the distinct scent of the other male, the sweet spice of masculine musk that was unlike anything he'd ever come across before. No, all of the nameless, faceless men he'd been with before had doused themselves in strong cologne, and had never come close to smelling so delectable.

Nor had their eyes ever been so vibrant and tore right through him like sapphire bullets.

"Just you and me," Grimmjow said. "But I just got a call from one of my partners. There's been an...incident, so I have to make a stop by the club tonight."

Ichigo didn't think he'd ever been so disappointed in his life.

"Oh...so...how long will you be?"

"_We _won't be too long. You're coming with me," the Fallen angel said, and at the younger male's confused expression, elaborated. "I know you're not entirely well yet but I won't leave you by yourself."

"So I'm going to _Sexta _with you?"

If he was honest with himself, the prospect terrified him.

Would Ginjou still be hanging around the exclusive nightclub, pawning off flesh-filled nights with the city's finest?

Would there be the usual brood of _skeletal _zombies with glazed eyes and _bruised _arms, beckoning him to join them once again?

"You can stay in my office," Grimmjow said, and after a second Ichigo smiled faintly up at him. Despite being new with human emotions, he could sense that the blue-haired angel knew he was uncomfortable at the thought of being in the club once again.

"Alright," he said after a few seconds. "But I don't think I have anything to wear."

"Nelly ordered clothes for you. The box they came in is in the foyer if you want to have a look."

Ichigo huffed, scowling and folding his arms across his lithe chest. "I guess that's my only option," he said.

Needless to say, the young man wasn't too pleased given Nelliel's track record of picking out 'appropriate' outfits for him to wear. And damn it, but he was not going to wear another _tunic_.

* * *

><p>Rather shockingly, the clothes Nelliel had ordered for him had been decent. Attractive, even. And not one tunic among them, though Ichigo was sure he would be forced into one in the event of another Fallen court visit or whatever.<p>

In the packages among packages of designer clothes that must have cost far too much, he'd found an outfit he deemed suitable. A pair of figure conscious black jeans that practically molded to his skin and a loosely fitting charcoal cashmere pullover that hung off of one shoulder and looked just right with his Consort choker, the richness of the midnight blue color made even more noticeable by the muted, sophisticated black and gray clothes.

However, it seemed that of all things Nelliel had forgotten to order shoes, so Ichigo was stuck wearing his knee-high, flat-heeled ebony lace-up combat boots. Though... they actually looked pretty good with what he had on.

An hour after he had found the other in the sitting room, Ichigo was following Grimmjow through the dim, smoky interior of _Sexta_, resisting the urge to hold onto the back of the other's heather gray suit like a small child. Instead he kept to walking right behind the Fallen angel, almost afraid to be separated from him.

His chocolate syrup brown eyes darted from dark corner to dark corner, all the while knowing he was being slightly paranoid. It wasn't likely that Ginjou was going to pop out of nowhere and demanded he come back to work for him, and Grimmjow would then produce a copy of the burned contract and all too willingly give Ichigo back to his former boss but when your life had been full of disappointments until you wised up and learned to expect only the worse, you're hesitant to dismiss that such a thing could happen.

As they made their way further into the club, the dark wave music became even louder, practically drowning those in the place in a sea of thrumming bass lines and sonorous voices that spoke of graveyard lovers. It was practically pitch black here, only the outlines and most prominent of features visible, Grimmjow's form nearly disappearing except for his shock of electric blue hair and eyes.

Ichigo then felt a hand wrap around his upper arm, tugging him away from the blunette's comforting presence, whipping his head around to see a man whose identity he couldn't make out in the darkness.

"Hey, Ichi-baby, I missed you these past couple of weeks," the man said. "I got your china white right here... but you gotta come keep me _company_ if you want it."

The orangette was befuddled for a second or two, especially when a little bag of brandy-colored liquid was waved right in his face, and for a moment he was about to snatch that bag right out of the man's hands out of pure instinct, his whole body singing at the sight of what it loved most while the reasonable part of his mind screamed at him that this would ruin everything. However, he could only stare blankly, unable to find words.

"Aw, come on...wha's the matter, someone else already grab you for the night? I'll pay twice what they're paying."

"He's not interested."

In the blinding blackness, Ichigo couldn't make out the man clearly that he now recognized as one of his former regular clients, but he was sure that he looked up to the speaker with the gutturally musical voice and backed up a few steps.

"Oh, Mr. Jaegerjaquez! I didn't know he was yours, I swear," the man said.

"Whatever," Grimmjow said before the orange-haired male felt a broad, surprisingly smooth hand encompass his own in a secret gesture. "Just don't talk to him, and make sure everyone else knows to stay away too."

"Right, I'll do that. Thank you!" And then the man was completely invisible in the dim lighting, disappearing into the dense crowd. Ichigo frowned deeply, tangerine brows drawing together, as he was gently towed away by Grimmjow's hold on his hand.

"Thanks," he said just loud enough to be heard over the music, feeling as if he should. "But I can speak for myself."

The Fallen angel stopped, luckily in a place where the throng of people was lighter, most of them reclining on the gray and midnight blue low-backed antique couches. Intoxicating sapphire eyes coolly surveyed Ichigo's slightly miffed expression as Grimmjow turned on his heel so they were facing each other.

"I know," he said. "I wanted him and the others to know that they can't harass you anymore."

"I could have told them that," Ichigo said. He knew he may have sounded ungrateful or childish, but he wanted to make his point known.

He was done being quiet, done letting others speak for him.

"You could have, but the people around here will obey what I tell them. Now, no one's going to dare mess with you," Grimmjow said in a sober tone, still holding onto Ichigo's hand, the orange-haired boy's scowl lifting as he nodded.

"Sorry, I'm just tired of never being able to say anything."

"You have nothing to say sorry for." The Fallen angel then gave an incredibly rare twitching of his lips, which Ichigo had come to think of as the man's version of an amused or fond smile. "I like it when you speak up."

"I noticed that the first time we met," the orangette said mirthfully and was pleased to hear Grimmjow's chuckle as they returned to making their way toward the back of the club. Ichigo could not wait until they were safely in the confines of the blunette's soundproof office.

Though he was wondering just what exactly kind of business required Grimmjow's immediate attention and presence...

The guards standing on either side of the door didn't say a thing or move a muscle as the owner of _Sexta_ opened the door to his office, letting Ichigo walk in first before shutting the door and the rest of the world behind them. The room was just as the younger male had remembered, down to the Victorian era furniture , and the massive ebony wood desk in Grimmjow's signature colors of midnight blue and gray velvet. However, there was a chaise lounge in the corner of the room that he hadn't noticed before and he made a beeline for the thing, flopping down on it inelegantly.

The Fallen angel, however, sat behind his desk, and Ichigo watched as he retrieved a thick volume that looked nearly ancient, the pages yellowed and the outer cover made of some kind of brown leather. It looked like one of those books they would have in _Harry Potter _or something. Grimmjow propped his feet on the desk before flipping it open.

The orangette was able to remain silent for about forty seconds before the question burst from his mouth.

"What are you reading?"

The other male looked up, one eyebrow raised, then he lifted the book so that Ichigo could see the front cover, the lettering so faded he could barely read it.

"_The... Art, Science, and Magick of Negotiation and Contracts_?" He looked up to see Grimmjow nod once before putting the book back into his lap so that he could continue reading. Ichigo thought the other wouldn't say anything more on the subject, though he himself was burning with curiosity about what the title meant and what the kind of information the book held, but then the blue-haired angel spoke.

"I'm catching up so that I can talk to the business partner I told you about earlier. This," Grimmjow gestured to the text, looking near illegible from where Ichigo sat it was so small, "isn't really my field of expertise."

"Oh," was all the orangette said for a while, the two of them slipping into a comfortable silence. "Hey, Grimmjow?"

"Yes?"

"That book... and the business partner... they don't have anything to do with the human world, do they?"

"Not particularly."

"So this 'business partner' coming tonight, he's a Fallen too?" Ichigo said, folding his arms underneath his chin as he lay stomach down on the chaise, staring at the blunette whose eyes were still trained on the book in front of him.

"No, he's not," Grimmjow said, not looking up.

The orangette bit his lip, wondering if he should question any further but ultimately deciding against it. Instead he turned around to recline on his back, but moved too fast as his sensitive stomach rolled at the motion. Desperately trying to remain quiet, he threw an arm over his face and willed for the sickness to go away.

They stayed like that for a while, still and silent. That was, until Ichigo felt Grimmjow's head snap up from what he was reading. Yes, the action was so sudden that he felt it and when he turned his head to see what could have prompted it, Ichigo saw the blunette's narrowed eyes trained on the office door.

"Wha-"

"Ichigo, stay here," the Fallen angel cut him off, rising from his seat and a hand in the other's general direction. Ichigo closed his mouth instinctively despite his confusion and watched as Grimmjow strode across the office, throwing the door open to reveal the dark mass of writing bodies and vibrating bass lines. "I mean it," was all he said before disappearing into the mess of shadows and pulsing light, leaving Ichigo utterly confused and alone in the office.

A thousand thoughts rushed through the orangette's mind. Why did Grimmjow just suddenly leave like that? What had he sensed? Did it have something to do with the exclusive... _crowd _the man belonged to? Or was it something a little bit more mortal?

Ichigo sighed, laying back on the chaise from where he had jolted to a sitting position at the disturbance.

Surely Grimmjow would be back soon, saying that he'd had a 'business issue' to deal with, per usual. He'd walk back through that door any minute.

But...

He didn't.

Ichigo waited on that velvety chaise for five, ten, twenty minutes. And it seemed that with every second that passed by, the silence became more and more thunderous, making his ears and chest ache. The general sense of malaise that stemmed from his withdrawal only worsened with the creeping anxiety he felt. It was something that twisted his heart and sucked the air from his lungs.

He knew he was supposed to wait there for Grimmjow, had practically given his unspoken word... but after exactly twenty seven minutes had passed, he couldn't take any more of the gut-wrenching anxiety and bolted from the office to the portal that led to the dusky, gauzy atmosphere of _Sexta'_s dance floor.

The guards didn't say anything as he rushed by, throwing himself into the throng of people. His espresso eyes darted from dark, secluded places to the middle of the strobe-light lit dance circles, but nowhere did he catch sight of a shock of turquoise blue hair.

"Ichigo!" an effeminate voice called his name and without a second thought, his head was turning to see who was doing so.

A tall, aubergine-haired woman was pushing her way through a group of middle-aged men that were all trying to catch her attention, placing their hands on her bare arms and on the svelte curve of her waist. She elbowed them all off, paying no attention to their offended expressions and cries.

"Yoruichi." Regardless of his anxiety, Ichigo smiled lightly at the woman who had been the closest thing he'd had to a friend for months on end.

Yoruichi was wearing a black off-the-shoulder dress that clung to the swell of her impressive bust and hips, a block of the fabric around her waist an orange that could rival his hair. Her dark purple hair was tied up per usual, showing off her long neck and the canvas of dark mocha, radiant skin. The pure golden eyes that were her best feature were like lanterns of small flickering fires in the dim lighting.

"Ichigo, where the fuck have you been?" she said, hands on her hips and not looking particularly happy. However, she didn't give him a chance to respond before continuing on. "No one's seen you in almost three goddamn weeks and Ginjou wouldn't say where you'd gone. I thought you were dead."

"Well...I'm not?" Ichigo laughed weakly.

"I can damn well see that." Yoruichi crossed her arms over her chest. "You left Ginjou, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did." The orangette felt a little burst of pride in his chest at being able to say that, even if it wasn't exactly by his own merit. Yoruichi uncharacteristically smiled sadly at his answer, a tenderness in her eyes that Ichigo had never seen before.

"I'm happy for you," she said, but then huffed, a stray lock of hair moving out of her face. "And shit, it was perfect timing too."

"What do you mean?" Ichigo arched an eyebrow.

"Haven't you heard? Ginjou's gone berserk in the past couple of weeks. Someone's been fucking around with his traffic; he lost a shitload of money."

The young man's chocolate eyes widened upon hearing that, wondering who would have the guts to mess around with Ginjou and his business. That was just _asking _for it.

"Are you serious?" he said, disbelieving.

"Yeah, the asshole's been making me and the girls stand on the corner of Fullbring during the day, and he said he was going to move us back to our old spot starting tomorrow night," Yoruichi said, looking royally pissed off, golden eyes glimmering with hatred for her boss.

It was so hard to believe someone like her could ever fall prey to someone like Ginjou and have to obey his every command.

"So, anyway, I was going to go to the back with Soi Fon and do an eightball. Wanna come?"

Then Ichigo remembered. It was how he had become fresh meat ripe for the hunt too, the downfall of so many people.

The temptation was overwhelming and the affirmative answer was on the tip of his tongue before even a second had passed. How he wanted to say yes and follow Yoruichi to the back and shoot that hell and heaven in a needle into his blood. God, he hadn't used in almost three weeks. It would be just like the first time. Or maybe even better.

"You're trying to get clean now, aren't you?" Yoruichi's voice was dripping with incredulity and her mouth parted in a mixture of awe and surprise. "You have to be, or we would have already been back there."

"Yes," Ichigo said simply. He wasn't sure how to feel. A part of him was a bit embarrassed, a juvenile peer pressure making him feel like a prude, a loser, for not joining in, but another, bigger part of him was just as proud as he had been when he'd said he'd left Ginjou.

"Wow...that's...good for you, hon," Yoruichi reached and squeezed his shoulder in a fond gesture. "I take back my invitation, then," she said, jokingly lifting her nose in the air.

"Thanks." Ichigo grinned faintly. "Um, have you seen a guy with blue hair around? Tall-ish and wearing a gray suit?"

The woman's full lips quirked into a coy smile and she lifted a finger to them, batting her eyelashes.

"My, Ichigo, you wouldn't happen to be talking about the fine piece of ass that's the owner of this place, would you?" she said and true to form, the orangette blushed bright cerise at her words. "Oh, _I see_. Well, I can't say I have, but, now that you mention it, he hasn't been around much lately either." Yoruichi's knowing expression made the young man uneasy and he shuffled from foot to foot.

"Y-yeah, um, well, if you see him, can you tell him I'm looking for him?" Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his flushed neck.

"Sure thing, hon," Yoruichi said, winking before turning to walk away. "See you, Ichigo and... take care of yourself, alright?"

"You too," the orangette said, with meaning than he originally intended seeping into his words as the aubergine-haired woman melted away into the pulsing shadows of the club. He knew that once his own life was settled, he would try his best to pull his friend out of this lifestyle. It was the least he could do, considering she'd been his only companion for the darkest time in his life.

He resumed his searching through the building, scanning heads of both dull and brightly colored hair for that particular shade of robin's egg blue.

After twenty more minutes and his efforts completely fruitless, Ichigo decided to chance it and went for the side door that led to the alleyway beside _Sexta- _the very same that he'd walked through the night he'd met Grimmjow for the first time. It was a tad perilous to go into the side alley at this hour due to all of the dealings that went on there, but before the Fallen angel had bought his contract, Ichigo had lived a life where danger lurked behind every pair of glazed eyes and cold smile. Needless to say, he wasn't too concerned.

The alleyway was not well lit, the only light spilling into the area from the electric blue neon signs on the club's front entrance and the fluorescent street lamps a few dozen feet away. There were a few dumpsters lined up along the opposite wall, black garbage bags spilling out of and piled next to them. However, where there would usually be a few junkies strung out on angel dust or a few good-time girls and boys with impatient clients, the alley was completely empty.

Frowning, Ichigo let the heavy metal door swing shut behind him, looking both ways down the narrow alleyway from the visible street filled with cars and stumbling club-goers to the seemingly never-ending pitch-black path leading to the next road over.

And just barely audible over the throbbing bass line of the music was a small whimpering noise that was definitely _not _human.

Intrigued, the orangette walked a few steps closer to where the near bursting garbage bags were haphazardly piled. The smell was not surprisingly unpleasant and he had to force the swell of shame he felt as memories of when he'd passed out in similar piles out of his mind, but this did not deter him from peering into the black, odorous mass and seeing a spot of pure white among it. A spot of pure white that was _moving_.

"What the hell?" The stunned yelp was out of Ichigo's mouth as soon as that spot shifted to reveal a small furry face with wide eyes.

It was a_ dog_.

Or more specifically, it was a puppy as it was much too small to be a fully grown dog. Its long, fluffy fur was the color of freshly fallen snow, though marred in some places with charcoal soot, and it was giving him the most pitiful stare with big golden eyes. Upon seeing the banana peel that was on top of its adorable head, Ichigo felt his heart melt.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" he said, obviously not expecting an answer. Without hesitation, he reached out for the puppy and brushed the banana peel off of its head. The little thing gave a tiny yip and Ichigo scooped the puppy up off the pile of garbage bags, hands wrapping around its small body easily, bringing it up so that they were face to face. From the buoyant amount of snowy fur and pointy ears, he guessed the dog was either some kind of Malamute or Siberian Husky.

It didn't have a collar, so it probably hadn't run away from its owner. While the orangette knew there were cruel people in this world, having interacted with them on a daily basis for all his life, but who would _dare _to leave such a defenseless, cute thing out here all by itself?

Maybe Ichigo would admit that he had a soft spot for animals.

He coddled the puppy to his upper torso, giggling in a decidedly unmasculine way when it started to lick his neck and chin with a small, dark blue tongue. Feeling that the puppy was shaking slightly, most likely from the bitter weather, he automatically tugged at the collar of his sweater, placing it in between the soft fabric and the bare skin of his chest. He shuddered involuntarily and squealed when the downy fur tickled him, but kept the dog there as he made his way back to the door.

Ichigo kept the wriggling puppy under his sweater while he tread through the dance floor and crowded sitting areas, trying to seem like he did not have a live animal on his person as he tried to make it back to Grimmjow's office as quickly as possible. For the first ever time, he was able to completely ignore those that called out to him and shrug off wandering hands, his focus entirely on concentrating on not giggling like a schoolgirl as the puppy kept tickling him with its cold nose and nipping playfully at his fingers through the fabric of his sweater.

It felt longer than the few minutes it really took to reach the office at the back of the club, the guards mute as ever when he passed them to enter the room.

However, while he had been expecting to return to an empty office and have some time to himself to think of how he was going to tell Grimmjow that he _would _be bringing the puppy back with them to the apartment, when the door shut behind him to cut off the convoluted sounds of low murmurs and thunderous music Ichigo was both shocked and relieved to see that the Fallen angel had returned.

That relief soon dissipated when he saw the look on Grimmjow's face.

The man's eyes reminded him of the fire on a gas stove, burning so hot that it was not a reddish orange, but a blazing shade of ultramarine blue. Those normally lush, full lips were tightly drawn into a thin line and he was leaning over his ebony desk, hands so tightly clenching the edge closest to Ichigo that his knuckles were pale from the strain.

"You left the office."

The younger male's formerly surprised visage fell into a frown.

"Yeah, so?" he said. "I went to look for you when you'd been gone for almost half an hour." Absentmindedly, he noted that the puppy in his sweater had stilled, as if it could sense the tension in the air.

"I told you to stay here until I got back," Grimmjow said as if that settled things.

"I'm aware." Ichigo sniffed and looked down his nose the best he could at the other, as the blunette was a good few inches taller than him. "Are you going to ground me now or something?"

"That's absurd." Grimmjow scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you're acting like you're my father, so why wouldn't you ground me for being _bad_?" The orangette would've folded his arms across his chest if there hadn't been a live dog tucked away in his sweater.

"You're not making any sense, Ichigo," Grimmjow said, sighing and letting go of his death grip on the table so that he could stand up straight.

"Yes, I am!" Ichigo said, offended. "It's like you think you-..." he trailed off, what he'd been about to say dying on the tips of tongue.

_It's like you think you own me_, was what he'd wanted to say.

But... didn't Grimmjow own him? He owed the other his life, and technically the Fallen angel had bought him, or the rights to his body actually, from Ginjou. He had to play the quiet, subservient human in the presence of the Fallen court, and there was a choker around his neck always that essentially marked him as belonging to Grimmjow.

Ichigo thought he'd been set free when his personal guardian angel had come to his rescue, but perhaps he'd just gone from one form of servitude to another less obvious one. Would the man he'd believed to be his savior only turn out to be another master?

"Ichigo," Grimmjow's voice cleared his mind. The sincerity in those previously burning sapphire orbs was jarring. "I've no intention to _punish_ you. I was..."

"Upset? Angry?" Ichigo was now quite used to offering suggestions as to what emotion the other tried to convey, no matter how incredibly endearing it was to watch Grimmjow struggle to find the right one.

"Yes, I was both of those when I came back to find you gone. It isn't safe for you to be alone when-...Ichigo, what the hell is under your shirt?"

The orange-haired male sheepishly smiled as he withdrew the soot-stained porcelain ball of fur from underneath his sweater, the dog yipping happily and licking every bit of Ichigo he could get to.

"I kind of found him, or her, outside in the alley. Can you believe that someone could just leave something so small and helpless out in the cold? We have to take him home, Grimmjow." He realized he sounded rather like a child begging and trying to convince a parent to keep a stray, but he'd always wanted a pet, so why waste the opportunity acting like an adult? "Please?"

"Ichigo," Grimmjow said again, but much differently. His tone was stern and almost cautious. "Put the dog down. Now."

"What?" The younger of the two hastened to explain. "No, it's fine. He's really friendly, and I'm sure he doesn't have rabies." The white puppy barked in agreement, snuggling its head into the crook of Ichigo's neck, gold eyes meeting blue. "See?"

"I'm not joking. Put the dog down now," Grimmjow ordered, walking around his desk to approach the orangette, hands extended with palms facing outwards.

"No!" Ichigo tightened his hold on the puppy, shamelessly pouting. "If you don't like dogs, I'll just take care of it myself, but I'm not going to just abandon it. I won't take him to a shelter where they could put him to sleep."

The puppy whimpered pathetically, as if it could understand what was being said. Ichigo just stroked its cotton-like fur in reassurance.

"Trust me, that thing won't be going to any shelter any time soon, Ichigo," the Fallen angel said like...he knew something the other didn't. "Now put it down before I take it from you."

"What is your _problem_? I get it, you don't like dogs, but-" Ichigo's sentence stopped short when he yelped, feeling the puppy in his arms start to..._vibrate_.

Looking down, he saw that the snowy animal was, in fact, vibrating like a cell phone, the edges of its white fur blurring as he held it out at arm's length. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers as the puppy began to shake so violently he was forced to let go of it.

But the dog never hit the ground, because in mid-air it shifted impossibly fast, body lengthening and growing until it was the orangette's own height. No longer a white puppy, there stood a man with radiant alabaster skin and jagged, long hair to match.

"Such a good-hearted boy, ta be takin' in strays without a second thought," the newcomer said, his voice silvery and slightly distorted, like he was speaking through the moving blades of a fan. "Yer gonna get yerself in ta trouble, _Ichigo_."

Ichigo didn't respond, jaw hanging off of its hinges as he stared blankly at the albino man that had previously a ball of white fluff in his sweater. The man was every inch pure white, except for his eerie but somehow beautiful gold on black eyes twinkling with amusement and blue tongue that licked his near invisible lips before they spread into a villainous grin.

His starlight hair was in a state of disarray similar to the orangette's own, spiked around his face and falling in shaggy layers around his shoulders, which were clothed in white leather that Ichigo thought had gone out of style in the eighties. His entire outfit was done in that porcelain leather, which consisted of a many zippered jacket that hung open over his bare, muscled chest, and what had to be the tightest pair of pants in existence. The only parts that weren't blindingly white were his pair of blood red motorcycle boots, the rosary around his neck, and painted fingernails in the same shade of vivid scarlet that was a bright contrast to his moon-like pale skin.

However, before Ichigo could even _begin _to think of a response, the man in front of him disappeared in a blur of white and red and blue and gray, only to reappear across the office lying on his back while Grimmjow straddled his waist, broad hands wrapped around that white throat.

"Aw, Gwimm, why so hostile?"

"Shut your damn mouth, you were supposed to come and meet me here." The Fallen angel's growl sounded more like it came from an animal than a divine being and the grip around the newcomer's neck seemed to tighten.

"But tha's borin'. 'Sides, I wanted ta meet the fresh meat." His devilish grin fell as he gasped for air.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo finally came to his senses, striding forward, hands outstretched but unsure whether or not he should touch the blunette in his current state. "Stop it, you'll kill him!"

The albino laughed maniacally even as he tried to breathe, hands wrapped around the wrists of the hands that were strangling him but apparently not trying too desperately to break free.

"Yeah, Gwimm, ya don' wanna kill poor, innocent _me_," he said between distorted laughs and gasps. "Wha' about all the memories we have? Like the time-" He was cut off by Grimmjow putting more force behind his effort to choke the life out of the white-haired man, blue tongue bursting from his mouth as he panted for air rather like...a dog.

'_Gwimm'? Memories?_ Ichigo was thoroughly confused, but deciding he didn't want to see a...whatever this albino was, die right in front of him. He reeled his right hand back, curling it into a fist, before sending it flying into the blunette's cheekbone. Grimmjow immediately let go of the other male to hold his face and stare up at his Consort with a shocked sapphire stare.

"Ah, mother_fucker_!" Ichigo cried, cradling his hand.

It seemed that with all of their other supernatural powers, Fallen also had extremely hard faces that made one's knuckles swell up and bleed as the owner of those knuckles cursed like a sailor under their breath at rapid speed. Only after the fourth time Ichigo had damned Grimmjow to hell and back did the man get over his surprise at being punched in the face and got off of the albino to stand up.

"Shit, Ichigo, what did you do that for? Here, let me see," he said, extending a hand.

"No, no!" The slighter male swatted the Fallen's hand away with his good one. "Just... who the hell are you?" He directed the last part at the white-haired man that was previously a dog, Ichigo's disappointment at not finally having the pet he'd always wanted plain as day.

"'M known by many names, but ya can call me Shiro," the albino said, jumping to his feet in an impressive feat of athleticism, crimson rosary swinging about until it came back to rest on his bare chest. "The Hell Hound, at yer service." He mock saluted and Ichigo blinked three times before saying anything.

"Hell hound?"

"_The _Hell Hound," Shiro said, shaking a red-tipped finger to make his point. "Don' tell me ya've never heard 'a me?"

"Of course he hasn't. No one has since the beginning of last century," Grimmjow said, not fazed when Shiro trained narrowed eyes like suns in a night sky on him. "What? It's true."

Ichigo felt an eyebrow quirk at the ease with which the other two interacted, even after one of them had very literally acted as if he was going to murder the other by choking him to death. It was obvious that they'd known each other for some time, and that Shiro was the 'business partner' the Fallen angel had spoken of earlier.

"Tha's just 'cause I stopped showin' myself to every little human tha' came along," Shiro said, defending his pride, before looking to the orangette in the room with a smoldering gaze. "But tonight I jus' couldn't help mahself when I saw ya all by yer lonesome. Ya know, if ya had kept me in yer shirt fer any longer I might have jus' started ta hump yer leg."

_The _Hell Hound's laughter was once again cut short, but this time it was from Grimmjow cuffing him upside the head.

"Jesus, Gwimm. No need ta be so moody, ya could've joined in. Tha's never been a problem before when we-"

"Shut up, Shiro," the Fallen angel said through gritted teeth. "You need to learn the meaning of discretion."

"Wait," Ichigo said loudly before the white-haired man could respond, both pairs of eyes flickering to him. "What's a hell hound? Is that like...a demon? And how do you two know each other?" He tried not to let the jealousy now coursing through him at the thought that it was rather likely from what little Shiro had been able to say that he and Grimmjow had known each other... _in the biblical sense_.

"_The _Hell Hound, pumpkin," Shiro said, grinning in a vicious, egotistical way. He seemed to rather like talking about himself. "Ya ever hear of the Grim, the big doggie tha' meant death? Or how when ya make a deal wit' a demon, the hounds of Hell will come ta get ya?"

Ichigo pursed his lips as he thought it over. While he'd never of the 'Grim' (which he was pretty sure had no relation to _Grimm_jow), he recalled the old superstitions about big hulking beasts in graveyards that dragged lost or damned souls to the underworld, so he nodded, still cradling his injured hand in his good one.

"Well, they're right, 'cept fer one thing. There's jus' one, _the _Hell Hound, and tha' would be _moi_." Shiro used one red-tipped finger to point to himself, smug grin never faltering. "When ya've been a bad boy, I'm tha one who comes ta get ya."

The orangette supposed he should have been very afraid then. He was, after all, face to face with the creature that pulled humans and their souls into the pits of Hell to stay for eternity, but for some reason, he knew the albino wasn't necessarily _evil_, like everyone's taught to believe a real-life Hell Hound would be. Twisted and sadistic, maybe, but not pure evil.

"And Gwimmjow here and I, we go _way _back. Isn't tha' right?" Shiro said, tilting his head in the blue-haired angel's direction. "I tried ta get 'im to come with me to tha furnace when he firs' Fell, but he wanted ta stay in this borin' place. 'A course, tha' didn't stop us from meetin' up e'ery now and then." The Hell Hound chuckled.

Ichigo knew his cheeks were flushed a brighter red than Shiro's nails, but he said nothing. Honestly, what had he expected? Grimmjow had lived for far longer than a mortal like himself could even begin to imagine and was a healthy, virile male. He couldn't have thought that the blunette was somehow a virgin, never lying intimately with another until the human that changed him came along.

But still the images of paper white and light bronze flesh intertwined appeared unbidden in his mind's eye. While they weren't entirely bad, as Shiro was decidedly sexy and Grimmjow was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, Ichigo banished them to a far corner in his head. _He _was the one that had given the Fallen angel the ability to feel like humans do. Grimmjow was _his_.

"Why would you want Grimmjow to go to...Hell, with you?" His tone had a little more bite and venom to it than he originally intended, but Ichigo wasn't apologetic.

"Mah boss tries ta get all of tha Fallen ta join us and make 'em full-fledged demons, but Gwimm's too sweet ta take up the offer, 'specially now tha' you've gone and given 'im all the fun human emotion," the Hell Hound said, giving a long suffering sigh whilst the blunette in the room pinched the bridge of his nose in an apparent effort to maintain patience. "I suppose tha' now I'll have ta find someone else ta play with."

A moment of silence passed before Grimmjow spoke.

"Now that that's settled, let's get to why you wanted to speak with me in the first place and why you were dicking around in the alley disguised as a puppy," he said, ignoring Ichigo's sound of protest as he went for the orangette's injured hand again. This time, however, he succeeded in gently capturing it in his two bigger ones. He just held it for a second before an electric blue glow surrounded the hand, pulses of light disappearing into the swollen, scraped flesh of the knuckles.

Ichigo gasped as his hand was healed completely right before his eyes.

"Angels have healing powers. We can bring the dead back to life even, if we wanted, but if we Fall our abilities are limited to reversing injuries," Grimmjow said, answering his Consort's unspoken questions and dropping Ichigo's now perfect hand, retreating behind his massive, ebony wood desk again. Before he sat down, he picked up the thick volume he'd been reading earlier.

Shiro followed his lead and flopped down on the chaise lounge, placing his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling and popping gum Ichigo could have sworn he didn't have before.

"I ain't even suppose' ta be here 'cause the boss told me ta stay away from you Fallen, so ya'd better appreciate this," he said but the blunette just grunted. "Anyway, I heard 'bout ya findin' yer human and thought I'd come check 'im out. Perfectly natural ta want ta see who's gonna be playin' with yer old toy, ya know."

Ichigo sniffed, crossing his arms over his cashmere charcoal sweater.

"But a few buddies 'a mine were already up here. Weird, right? So I hang around fer a day and heard all 'bout how this human's trafficking had been fucked wit'. Went from rollin' in tha dough to flat ass broke, from what I heard."

The orangette froze, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he remembered what Yoruichi had told him earlier.

"And, as mortals do when they ain't got shit ta lose, he came lookin' fer a dealin' demon. A' course I considered snatchin' him up, but his soul's all bitter an' dry. Plus, what he was lookin' ta trade it for would'a been somethin' of a... _conflict of interest _for me, ya could say," Shiro said, not moving from his position on the chaise, only his gold on black eyes swiveling over to meet Ichigo's. "But he foun' some hard-up fucker; I sensed tha magick tonight 'fore I came 'ere. Bein' the good-natured Hell Hound I am, I decided ta tell ya."

Grimmjow swore a vile, black oath under his breath that had even the albino raising an eyebrow in surprise. Ichigo wondered where an angel, Fallen or not, could learn such a phrase but was more focused on hoping desperately that what Shiro was saying wasn't what he thought.

"Is it...is it..." The only human in the room couldn't finish his question as suddenly he felt sick to his stomach and lightheaded.

"I told you you'd never have to see him again, Ichigo. I won't go back on that." The Fallen angel's voice was deeper than usual and filled the entire room with its sound, in it the true nature of his disgraced divinity apparent. Ichigo could only nod, shakily sitting down in one of the armchairs.

"Ooh, this is like somethin' outta a romance novel. Gwimmjow, take off yer shirt and molest Ichigo 'till he feels better. Tha' always works."

For the second time that night Ichigo found himself trying to dissuade a blue-haired Fallen angel from choking the life out of an albino Hell Hound.

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><p><strong>AN**: So sorry for the wait on this chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and added this to their favorites/alerts. Next chapter won't take nearly as long, I promise!

_China White _- heroin  
><em>Eightball <em>- crack cocaine and heroin combined or taken around the same time.  
><em>Angel Dust <em>- PCP  
><em>Dark Wave <em>- a genre of music that reached its prime in the late 1970's to early 1980's, especially in England. Usually meshes "dark, introspective" lyrics with heavy, rhythmic bass lines and hypnotic vocals. Sometimes mistakenly referred to as 'Gothic Rock.'

This chapter is dedicated to:

**Ldzetc **for beta'ing this chapter despite her illness and making this story a bajllion times better.

**MaxxieBEYOND **for her fanart of Ichigo from the first chapter. It's so beautiful, so be sure to check it out (remove spaces.)

http:/ veritasyaoi. deviantart. com/ art/ Sinful- Ichigo- 259522353

_Lyrics belong to Depeche Mode. _


	4. Part IV: What's Your Aspect?

_To fairly warn some of you, there's plenty of religious themes and references in this chapter that may be considered offensive. _

_..._

**Sinful Part IV**

**What's Your Aspect?**

_Beta'ed by Ldzetc_

...

* * *

><p>"I think the coconut ones are my favorite."<p>

"Hmm... I like the caramel."

"How boring."

"Hey, at least they don't have the little shreds from Hell that get stuck in your teeth."

Ichigo was laying on Nelliel's bed with the sea foam-haired Fallen angel, a half-eaten box of ridiculously expensive chocolates between them as they stared up at the rich blue canopy. This had become somewhat of a routine for the two of them during the past fortnight after Nelliel had heard that he needed to eat more and gain some weight before being turned immortal. She'd smiled as if she'd just won the lottery then, turned to him and said 'Oh I am going to get you _so _fat.' Then she introduced the orangette to the world of fine chocolate and he swore that what he'd eaten in the past two weeks didn't amount to all of the food he'd consumed in the previous eighteen years of his life.

Instead of arguing the issue of whether caramel or coconut truffles were better, Nelliel sighed and flipped over onto her stomach and rested her chin in her hands so that she could stare up to where Ichigo was resting his head on a small mountain of downy pillows.

"So, Itsygo..." she started and the orange-haired youth arched a brow at her tone, already able to tell he wouldn't like where this conversation was headed, trepidation welling up in his gut. "How are things with you and Grimmy?"

Ichigo reached for a chocolate, freeing it from its wrapper before popping it into his mouth, the blissful taste melting on his tongue as he shrugged his shoulders. He knew what the girl meant by the question and it didn't have anything to do with how well they were getting along... or at least how well they were doing so outside of Grimmjow's metal, sun-protecting bed.

Nelliel huffed, taking another piece from the box for herself and rolling her gray-green eyes.

"Come on," she said around the chocolate in her mouth. "You've been here for over a month already. I mean, if I were you I would've sealed the deal weeks ago. So spill." The green-haired girl turned onto her side, resting her head on the pillow beside the orangette. "Is he really packing heat or do his big hands and feet just set up for a big disappointment?"

Ichigo wondered if he would ever be rid of his cursed blushing habit as blood rushed to his face and neck, lighting the normally pale hazelnut skin up like a traffic light. Honestly, you would think being a male prostitute for a few months would chase out any shyness about things of a sexual nature, but nope, he was the only one who was immediately embarrassed at the mention of anything like that. Brilliant.

"Oh my God," Nelliel said. "Don't tell me you two haven't fooled around yet!" The Fallen angel burst into giggles, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle them unsuccessfully.

"I wanted to wait!" Ichigo said, covering his face with his hands but peeking through his fingers at his friend.

"S-sorry," Nelliel said through peals of laughter, managing to calm herself down so that she only grinned in amusement, mossy eyes sparkling with mirth. "But seriously, not even once?"

The mortal shook his head, feeling as if he were prepubescent yet again. It was odd, considering he'd never had this kind of experience, talking with a friend about a romantic interest. Up until he'd dropped out of high school at fifteen, he'd been incredibly prudish, never even kissing anyone until a party he had attended completely blitzed out of his mind and had his first stolen by a college student as the orangette was on the verge of passing out.

He dropped his hands to rest on his ever so slightly fuller but still concave stomach.

"No. I wanted it to be different, you know?" Ichigo said. "I wanted to make sure he didn't really just want me around to... fool around with."

Nelliel's cheerful expression faded into a somber one, her full lips turning down and sea-green brows pulling together to form a small frown. The wheaten depths of her eyes were unreadable.

"You didn't really think that, did you? Even when he told you about the Fallen and the humans that change them?"

"Other men have been nice to me before, told me they loved me even." Ichigo chuckled bitterly. "It never meant shit."

Nelliel's hand reached out to touch him in what he was sure was going to be a reassuring gesture, but he couldn't help but to flinch away, not bothering to explain himself even when the girl's face betrayed her surprised hurt. He couldn't have anyone touch him when he thought of his past life; their hands were only ghosts of the ones that had been on him before.

Ichigo had thought moving on from the mental trauma he'd received would've been relatively simple now that he had two people who cared for him and no longer had to live in fear of not getting that next fix, of being beaten to a pulp if he didn't perform and make enough money, of someone stumbling upon his lifeless body lying in an alley and walking right on by. Of course that wasn't the case, that would have been far too easy.

"Itsygo..." Nelliel's tone was full of pity and the orangette loathed it. It was the worst sound in the world. "You're everything to Grimmjow now. He'd never lie to you or treat you badly."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"I... I think so," Ichigo said, voice wavering a little bit in his uncertainty, but shook his head minutely. "Being this Consort thing, it's kind of hard not to think of him like another master. What would happen if I made him look bad in front of that Aizen guy?"

"Absolutely nothing," Nelliel said confidently, lifting her head up to rest it on the hand of the arm crooked underneath her. "He's never agreed with Lord Aizen's views on how humans are inferior to angels. In fact-..."

"What?" Ichigo rolled onto his side as well, curiosity piqued by how the Fallen angel had suddenly stopped in the middle of her sentence. "What were you going to say?"

The green-haired girl bit her lip, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but Grimmy should probably tell you that himself."

"Tell me what?"

"Well, you know how each of the Aspects is named and numbered for the Aspect of Death they represent?" Nelliel said, gaze traveling off to stare into the space above the orange-haired youth's head. "And that it's done to fit the reason they were banished from Heaven?"

"Yeah, Grimmjow told me that the night we met," Ichigo said.

"It's a sensitive issue for him, his Aspect position and why he earned it, so he should tell you himself."

"Oh..." the mortal trailed off, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. "Nelliel, can I ask you...?"

"Why I was banished?" the green-haired angel said, grinning in a sudden change of attitude, appearing much more light-hearted despite the topic being her excommunication from her home in Heaven. "You may be disappointed, it's not a very exciting story."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Ichigo desperately didn't want Nelliel to think he was demanding her to tell him what may have been a touchy subject.

"No, it's fine. I don't mind if you know," she said, waving him off. "It was only fifty years ago-"

"_Only_?"

"Shh now, I'm telling you the story and yes, fifty years is a short time to us angels, considering we were here before any of you humans were," Nelliel said, sighing almost wistfully. "Anyway, at that time I was assigned to keep watch over two little boys, Pesche and Dondochakka."

"Like a guardian angel?" Ichigo said, somewhat unwilling to believe that such a thing could exist, because if they did his had been slacking off for... well, his entire life.

"Yes, exactly." The sea foam-haired girl smiled sorrowfully, her gray-green eyes going distant as she appeared to remember what had happened all those years ago. "However, a guardian angel is only there to guide their charges to the right side of life. Basically strengthen their faith. We're not supposed to interfere in any physical way..."

"But you did," the orangette said.

"They were going to die, Itsygo," Nelliel said, and for the first time since that night he'd arrived at the apartment Ichigo saw her eyes well up with tears, but now they didn't originate from joy. "They were eight and nine and they were going to die in a house fire. I couldn't let them, not right in front of me. One second I was watching their scared faces and the next I was holding in them in my arms and flying away."

"So, you were banished from Heaven... because you saved two children's lives?"

To say Ichigo was baffled would have only covered the tip of the iceberg of his confusion.

"They were meant to die that night," Nelliel said, roughly brushing away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyelashes. "The orders of Heaven are not to be questioned."

The weight of that sentence made the air suddenly feel heavy. The monotonous, lifeless way the Fallen angel had said it sending involuntary shudders down Ichigo's spine. It hadn't sounded natural, like she had momentarily turned into a robot, or had been brainwashed. Those words were not her own. However, the orange-maned mortal didn't comment on it.

"But you saved their lives. How is that bad?"

"Oh, Itsygo." Nelliel shook her head and rolled her eyes to look upwards. "If it is supposed to be, we're forbidden to stop it from happening, no matter how terrible it is. It didn't even matter that I saved them from the fire; after I Fell they died in a car accident."

"That's... I thought angels were supposed to help people?" Ichigo exhaled harshly, the air blowing several strands of sunset-colored hair from his face.

"Angels are the servants of Heaven, not the champions of humans," the angel said more upset than the mortal had ever seen her, the normally serene visage of her face pinched, her lips pursed. "It's always been told to mortals that our side is the right one, but it's really just the more orderly of the two. It's never been considered that it isn't all angels and demons, one black, one white; one good, one evil. It's so wrong because there's so much neutral gray."

Ichigo closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking deep breaths. The revelation that angels were maybe not completely good, and by default some demons were not completely evil, was somewhat jarring. It was just fortunate he hadn't believed in anything before meeting Grimmjow, otherwise he'd probably be having a much harder time with it.

However, instead of saying anything on that matter, he went back to something Nelliel had stated earlier.

"You know, that isn't exactly what I'd call a boring story," he said, a wry grin pulling at the corner of his lips. The female Fallen angel scoffed, waving a hand dismissively in the space between their bodies.

"Trust me, Itsygo, it's extremely boring compared to most other Fallen's stories of how they Fell," she said.

Ichigo nodded and turned to lie on his back once more, staring up at the midnight blue bed canopy that mimicked a starless night. He absentmindedly fingered the borrowed button down shirt he still wore despite his entire new wardrobe, wondering whether Grimmjow's story was really more impressive than risking everything to save two children's lives. It had to be, considering whatever he'd done to be excommunicated had to fit his Aspect of Death, which was...

"Hey, Nelliel?"

"Hm?"

"I know you won't say what it was Grimmjow did, but can you tell me what his Aspect is?" the orangette said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as if he weren't burning with curiosity. He knew he'd succeeded when the girl sighed aloud.

"Fine, but you didn't hear this from me," she said. "Grimmy's the Sixth Aspect in the Fallen court... the Aspect of Destruction."

Ichigo was deathly silent, his mind unwillingly repeating the last word over and over so many times until it almost lost its meaning.

Destruction.

"Don't pass any judgment on him until you've heard the whole story, Itsygo," Nelliel's warning voice cut through his repetitive thoughts. "It's nothing like what I can imagine you're thinking about."

"Okay," was all the orangette could manage to say.

"Look," she said, pushing herself up so that she knelt beside him on the extensive mattress. She wore a coy smile that reminded him of Yoruichi, symbolizing yet another change in her demeanor. "If you want him to tell you how he Fell, all you have to do is make him feel a little... _relaxed_."

When Ichigo opened his mouth, Nelliel continued speaking, subtly telling him to shut up and let her talk.

"I know you want to take it 'slow' so that it'll be different, but I mean, you guys have only... what, kissed?"

The mortal nodded, too uncomfortable with the topic to answer out loud.

"Don't tell me you haven't even slipped in a little tongue action," Nelliel said, shaking her head full of mossy hair in bemused exasperation. "Honestly, you two are hopeless. It's obvious you can't wait for him to make a move because he's too worried about scaring you off in your _fragile _state... You'll have to take the lead tonight."

"What? Why tonight?"

"Didn't he tell you the two of you were going to _Sexta_ again tonight? I'm going to visit the Third Aspect and Mila, Sun-Sun, and Appaci so it'll be the perfect time to take things to the _next level_," she said. "Anyway, you'll have to make the first move."

"But-"

"Yes, yes, I know you two are taking it slow, but there are so many other things that you can do without going all the way. Surely you know that."

Ichigo glared up at the female Fallen angel, crossing his arms; his proverbial feathers were a bit ruffled at the possibly implied insult.

"Stop giving me that look, Itsygo," Nelliel said before rubbing her palms together in an enthusiastic, evil genius way. "Now, tonight when you get to the club together, the first thing you need to do is make him jealous."

It would be a torturous next couple of hours in that bedroom for the orange-haired human.

* * *

><p>Even though he'd been in it a few times beforehand, Ichigo never tired of riding in Grimmjow's vintage Rolls Royce. He wasn't even remotely into cars but it <em>was<em> an exquisite piece of mechanical art and he definitely appreciated the thing when he was seated next to a beautiful blue-haired Fallen angel in the plush leather back seat as they drove through the city sparkling with the millions of fluorescent lights it used to dress up for a night of impure festivities.

He was definitely all right with living out his entire life in a nocturnal state. Nighttime was so much, well... _more_, than its counterpart.

Grimmjow was drinking brandy from some undoubtedly exclusive label in a glass snifter, dressed in one of his usual casual suits though this time the fabric was a deep navy blue and a black dress shirt under the open jacket, the top three buttons undone. With the heavy ultramarine stare he kept trained on Ichigo, he was temptation incarnate.

The orange-haired mortal could feel those blue fire eyes on his profile as he stared out the window; they were practically branding his skin. It made his heart race too rapidly to be healthy as goosebumps covered his arms.

"Cold?" the Fallen angel's just deep enough voice said when Ichigo involuntarily shivered and rubbed his arms in an effort to make the prickling feeling on them go away.

"N-no, I'm fine." The orangette let his stare wander over to Grimmjow ever so slightly so that he could drink in the other's presence with his peripheral vision.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let Nelly dress you," the blunette said, smirking. "You're going to be freezing all night."

"Maybe," Ichigo said under his breath. Grimmjow was right, after all. After their conversation earlier, Nelliel had stuffed him into another one of her 'perfect' outfits, though he had to admit this one was the least revealing and embarrassing by far. Apparently the clothes were all part of the plan to get the blunette into a lustful frenzy so that Ichigo could finally do a little more with him than simple close-mouthed kisses and perhaps entice some information from the secretive Fallen angel.

For example, the reason he was assigned to be the Sixth Aspect, and also... what exactly Grimmjow had learned about the situation with a certain deal-making acquaintance of theirs. Ichigo had heard nothing about the latter since the night two weeks before when Shiro had informed the both of them about what was going on in the darkest corners of the city.

Nelliel had given him a black turtleneck similar to the one he'd worn when they first met, except it was cutout around the shoulders, leaving them exposed, metallic gray army boots and indigo-colored pants made of a fabric like denim, only far more pliable. Despite his protests that the blue-purple color would clash terribly with his hair, she hadn't listened to a word he'd said and only made him sit still so she could secure black feather hairpieces into his mussed tangerine locks. He'd only said yes to those because they reminded him of the ones that covered Grimmjow's wings.

"I have something for you," the blunette said, breaking the silence they'd been sitting in. Ichigo's eyebrows raised in surprise as Grimmjow reached into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. His hand returned with something dangling from it that sparkled even in the dim lighting of the car. "It's not anything special, but it would make me feel better if you wore it."

The orangette felt his mouth part slightly as he took in what the sparking thing was exactly, as it was a little startling due to both its prettiness and nature.

It was a traditional Catholic rosary with black iridescent beads made of some material Ichigo had never seen before, but the Hail Mary beads were clearly made out of deep midnight blue sapphires and the crucifix carved from the ivory, opalescent material of mother of pearl.

"You want to... give me that?" he said softly, stare focused on the crucifix swaying slightly as it was suspended from Grimmjow's hand.

"It's not just jewelry," the blunette said. "It has some protective powers, just in case I'm not around..."

"Protective powers? You mean like some sort of magic amulet?" Ichigo was fascinated and he extended a hand towards the rosary hesitantly, wary to touch something that could have such an unearthly quality.

"Something like that." Grimmjow used both hands then to lower the beaded rosary over the orangette's head so that it settled around his throat and under the ever-present Consort choker. The off-white, opalescent crucifix came to rest in the center of his chest and Ichigo could have sworn he felt a strange little shock through the fabric of his shirt. "Don't ever take it off, especially when we're here."

Confused, the youth looked up from the rosary to see that the car door had been opened by Grimmjow's driver, the front entrance to _Sexta _in immediate sight. He allowed the blunette to take his hand and lead him out from the luxury car and into the unsurprisingly packed nightclub.

It was the same as every other night- the dark, pulsing atmosphere- but it was also different... lighter somehow, not as unnerving. It puzzled Ichigo for a few moments before he realized that all of Ginjou's employees had cleared out of the club a fortnight ago as he remembered his conversation with Yoruichi; the man had moved them all to their old haunt, a slightly less exclusive place in the Upper West side of the city. The orangette was relieved he didn't have to go there anymore; everyone that frequented it was a total lush.

When he and Grimmjow stepped past the guards and into the latter's office, Ichigo was surprised to see that it was not empty as it should have been and always was. Nevertheless, this development was no cause for alarm as the occupant was a white-skinned, white-haired, white-clothed male. That male was not only sitting in the Fallen angel's desk chair but had his scarlet booted feet propped up on the ebony desk and hands behind his head of moonlight-colored hair.

"Took ya long 'nough," Shiro said, insane grin spreading across his unearthly face. "I was 'bout a' take a nap."

The blunette next to Ichigo snarled, though anyone who knew him would be able to tell it wasn't a sound of actual rage, and strode over to the albino Hell Hound, knocking his feet off the desk.

"Get the hell out of my chair, Shiro," he said. "And we're not late, _you're_ early."

"Sure, sure." The white-haired man waved him off lackadaisically but still rose from the plush chair, eerie black and gold eyes then falling upon the orangette in the room a few feet away. "So glad ta see ya again, Ichi-pet. Yer lookin' particularly... _tempting _tonight."

"Thanks...?" Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes to where Grimmjow had reclaimed his chair. Just as the Fallen angel wasn't the same as all of the other men to come onto him, the Hell Hound wasn't either. Grimmjow was different because his words were genuine and Shiro was different as he was decidedly... slinky in his approach.

"Aw, don' worry, gettin' to look at yer pretty face is thanks enough," the albino said, chuckling.

"Shiro." The blue-haired man's entire demeanor screamed irritation and balefulness. "Stop messing around and give me the damn thing already."

Ichigo was then reminded of what Nelliel had coached him on before they left, how jealousy would drive Grimmjow positively mad. He'd thought that if he were to actually go along with the female's scheming then he would have to find someone in the club all on his own. It was just his luck that now he was being handed what was most likely the biggest flirt on the planet on a silver platter.

_Hmm...what to do, what to do..._

"All right, Gwimm, don' get yer panties in a knot now," Shiro said, sufficiently startling Ichigo when he slid one hand under the waistband of his white leather pants and where the fabric covered his crotch, a second later withdrawing along with it a few pieces of notebook paper folded several times. He tossed it onto the desk, grinning madly. "There it is, all tha info ya were searchin' for. I kept it nice and secure fer ya."

When Grimmjow inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, the orange-haired human actually had to stifle a giggle, clapping a hand over his mouth.

"If this is at all helpful, it will be a fucking miracle," the Fallen angel said, unfolding the pieces of paper on which Ichigo could only make out that the words written on them were in a language he didn't recognize from anywhere. "And don't expect me to thank you."

The orangette oddly then felt a need to chastise Grimmjow and tell him to be nicer to Shiro since the Hell Hound _had _just obviously done him a favor, but caught himself before the proper words could even form in his mind. He didn't need for he and the blunette to turn into an old married couple barely a month into their relationship.

"Wouldn' dream 'a it, yer manners _were _always lackin'," Shiro said, sniffing indignantly as he feigned distaste. Grimmjow only grunted in response before going about reading what was on the paper and it was only a few seconds before the albino spoke again, this time directly to Ichigo.

"Well, since Gwimm's gonna be busy with tha', how 'bout the two a' us heat up tha dance floor?" The eager, manic gleam in those inverted eyes had the orangette taking a step backwards.

"Oh, I...uh... " he sputtered, trying to think of a way to politely decline when the images of the Fallen angel he'd changed kissing him soundly and running broad, capable hands in all the right places came unbidden to his mind.

_The first thing you need to do is make him jealous_.

"Aw come on, I pwomise I'll be a good boy," Shiro said, jutting out his lower lip and gliding forward.

"Leave it alone, he doesn't want-"

"Yeah, okay. Let's go," Ichigo said, cutting off what Grimmjow had been saying, obviously surprising i the other two if the raised blue eyebrows and the waggling pale white ones were any indication. Shiro darted forward those few feet separating him and the mortal, wrapping one white leather-clad arm around Ichigo's shoulders left exposed by the cutout design of his black turtleneck.

"Ya jus' made my nigh', Ichi-pet. I've been dyin' ta dance with ya since ya picked me up out 'a tha garbage."

Ichigo barely heard what the white-haired man had to say, toffee brown orbs surveying Grimmjow, whose jaw was so tightly clenched the quivering muscles in the lower part of his perfect face were visible. He mentally threw confetti, recognizing that the blunette wanted to say something to stop him from going but couldn't think of anything because he was _jealous_.

Not another word was said before Shiro lead the youth out of the office and into the din of the nightclub beyond. They weaved through the crowd until they reached the spot right next to the DJ booth where all those who wished to dance had congregated.

Though ill at ease in places like _Sexta _because of what going to one meant for him in his former life, Ichigo had never had much of an issue with dancing in spite of the fact he rarely did it. Dancing was one of the few 'normal' things young people commonly did that the orangette could actually enjoy.

And he wasn't too bad at it, either, if he may say so.

The DJ, a rather attractive man with long, dark red hair and tribal tattoos, was spinning _Sexta_'s famed repertoire of early eighties' Dark Wave, a fitting genre considering just who owned the place and the immortal being Ichigo was currently in the company of. The hypnotic dance beats and golden vocals of a _Clan of Xymox _track that was then playing struck a chord somewhere inside of the orange-maned mortal and he felt his hips begin to sway to the bass line.

"I love this song," he said unthinkingly.

Shiro smiled blindingly at him, turning him around and wrapping his arms around the other's waist to bring their bodies flush with each other, pale bare chest against ebony-clothed back. Though Ichigo wished it was Grimmjow he was dancing with like this, he mentally said 'fuck it' and moved to the music, letting his eyes become hooded and lips to part. There was something about combination of the pitch-black around him and the bewitching music that was positively intoxicating. Inhibitions never existed on a dance floor.

The Hell Hound was a great dance partner; Ichigo would say that much, if not a little overly enthusiastic when it came to grinding his pelvic area into the slighter male's backside. Regardless, they moved together well and were the subject of many envious and admiring stares.

If he didn't have Grimmjow, the orangette thought that perhaps he could have been interested in Shiro, even with his somewhat lecherous nature.

"Don' look now and don' stop dancin', but we 'ave a certain Fallen as our audience," the albino said in Ichigo's ear and the latter mentally patted himself on the back when he did just that, managing to keep on moving to the music against the front of Shiro's body like nothing had changed though he did allow himself one self-satisfied smile.

Grimmjow was watching. He would have to step things up a bit.

The human lifted one arm to hook around Shiro's neck behind and slightly above his head, his free hand then resting on top of where those moon-pale hands tipped with bright red fingernails were clasped together dangerously close to his most intimate area. Then he let his head fall back to rest against a shoulder covered in white leather, resulting a distorted chuckle to sound in his ear.

"If ya wan' Gwimm ta get really green wit' envy, we'll have ta do a bit better than tha'," Shiro said. Ichigo grinned, knowing he'd automatically liked the Hell Hound for a reason, even if he _had _been a dog then.

The white-haired man spun him around and hooked a hand under the youth's knee to hike one leg around his hips, letting one of his own slide in between Ichigo's. Then he grabbed hold of tangerine locks of hair, pulling the other male as close as they could get without absorbing each other through osmosis. The orangette almost blew the entire operation when Shiro licked a trail up the side of his neck with that dark blue tongue of his but suppressed the urge to squeal like a girl and break away.

Shiro placed his lips right next to Ichigo's ear then and to anyone else it would have looked like he was whispering sweet nothings to the other.

"Three," he said so softly Ichigo had to strain to hear him. "Two...one...and-"

Ichigo abruptly felt a hand wrap around his upper arm, jerking him away from his intimate position in the Hell Hound's embrace so rapidly the world spun for a moment or two. His senses returned to him then, his mind catching up with the fact he was being fairly dragged through the nightclub by one incredibly pissed off Fallen angel. He wanted to break free of Grimmjow's hold on his arm but waited until they were back in the blunette's office, pulling away with all of his might as the door slammed shut behind them.

Grimmjow must have let him go, he concluded. No human being could free themselves from the clutches of someone endowed with inhuman strength like Fallen angels did.

"Do you want to tell me just what that... _display _was all about?" Grimmjow spat, rounding on Ichigo and the latter's eyes widened when he spotted the pointed fangs he'd only seen twice before emerging from between the angel's lips.

"I was just dancing," he said in a quiet voice, wondering if trying to make the other jealous was really such a good idea in the first place.

"And your definition of dancing is fucking with clothes on?" Grimmjow scoffed, rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his broad chest.

"I-I..." Ichigo was at a complete loss, unsure of whether to come clean or keep up the facade as he didn't know which one would incite the Fallen angel's anger more.

"Any day now, Ichigo," the blue-haired male said, sneering. "You know, I never expected something like this from you considering what you told me when I asked you to stay with me. But now I gather what you meant by 'take it slow' was 'fuck around with everyone else besides you'."

The orangette stood there, frozen with shock at the way the ever irreverent Grimmjow was speaking to him. His mouth opened and closed several times but he couldn't think of a single word to say, couldn't even remember how to speak.

"Well, is that right? I guess I shouldn't have thought differently. Once a whore, always a whore."

It was then that Ichigo felt the horrifying hot sting of tears in his eye sockets and the unmistakable feeling of a knot in his throat like he'd swallowed a golf ball. But still, he didn't move a muscle, didn't say anything. It was his worst nightmare brought to life; Grimmjow really was no different than Ginjou or any of the others that had treated him like dirt his whole life.

"Ichigo? Wait, are... are you crying?" The Fallen angel's tone readily did a one eighty, going from condescending lividity to gently hesitant. He reached out for the mortal but Ichigo fiercely swatted his hand away, chocolate brown eyes narrowing in fury even as he felt fresh tears gather in their depths.

"Don't you fucking touch me," he said. "I can't believe I thought you were different, that you wouldn't say something like that to me and make me feel like shit. You're the same as everyone else!"

"Ichigo, no, I-"

"Shut up, I don't even care," Ichigo said, rashly closing the distance between them to point a finger in Grimmjow's handsome face that was pulled into a lost expression. "We _were _just dancing and it looked like more because I was trying to make _you _jealous!"

"Jealous?" the blunette repeated, staring down Ichigo's index finger with large, sapphire eyes.

"Yes, you asshole, _jealous_. I wanted us to... go to the next level," the orangette said, mentally berating himself for using Nelliel's lame terminology. "But if I didn't do something drastic you'd continue on barely touching me, so when Shiro and I were _dancing _he offered to help me out. That. Was. It."

"Jealous," Grimmjow said again, closing his eyes and turning on his heel away from Ichigo. "I was jealous." He spoke without any hint of his earlier ire; he was lifeless.

"That was the plan," the orange-haired male said facetiously, making sure the other wasn't looking before wiping away the moisture from around his eyes, shame setting in once he realized he'd actually sort of cried in front of the Fallen angel like some girl.

"I wanted to kill Shiro with my bare hands and yell at you... because I was jealous?" Grimmjow said under his breath, though Ichigo still heard it.

The blunette must have never experienced jealousy before just then when they'd been on the dance floor and so he flipped out because...

"I was jealous," the other man said with an air of finality, turning back to Ichigo with the most pitiful expression on his face it was terribly difficult for the latter not to comfort him. "Christ, Ichigo, I'm... I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said those fucked up things..."

Grimmjow sank to his knees, hands reaching up to pull at his hair. The orangette reflexively approached him and the blue-haired angel tilted his head to stare up at Ichigo, his features twisted and eyes burning with anguish.

Sometimes it's hard to remember how scary emotions truly are at their rawest form, especially when humans feel them every second of every day; to feel them is as natural as breathing. But to experience one of the most powerful for the first time? Absolutely terrifying. Ichigo was sure of this.

"I-"

"Shh, Grimmjow," the human said, serenity washing over him and apparent in his speech as he realized that perhaps the Fallen angel had just made a very human mistake not knowing how to control his ire. "It's all right, you don't have to say anything else. I get it."

Ichigo thought that perhaps he should be the one apologizing, forcing the other to experience the tidal waves of jealousy when he had no idea how to swim.

Grimmjow exhaled deeply then from his position kneeling on the floor, surprising the orangette by then wrapping his arms around the other male's midsection and resting his forehead against Ichigo's stomach. After a moment the mortal smiled softly and placed a hand on top of the immortal's head of cyan locks.

"I think I'd feel better if you hated me," the blunette said, his voice muffled against the fabric of the other's black cutout turtleneck.

"That would be the guilt talking." Ichigo patted the top of Grimmjow's head like a parent would their child. "And you can get up off of the floor now," he said but the Fallen angel made no effort to move.

"Or you could come join me down here."

The youth chuckled at that but it quickly turned into a small yelp as he was pulled down to the carpeted floor to land half in the blue-haired man's lap, arms instinctively wrapping around Grimmjow's neck. He scowled upon landing but didn't remain displeased for too long when the other leaned in to ghost his lips across the hollow of his throat.

"Next level, you said?" the Fallen angel said against his suddenly very warm skin.

"Y-yeah," Ichigo said breathlessly.

"And what exactly," Grimmjow paused to place a barely-there kiss to the base of the human's throat. "Would that be?"

"More than what we were doing before but not... all the way."

"Sounds good to me."

Ichigo didn't have the time to respond before his immortal Fallen angel's lips crashed into his own. He whimpered at the intensity of their kiss, only having shared with each other a few like it in their month of living together. Their lips moved with each other's and Ichigo let his part slightly, gasping when Grimmjow's teeth grazed his bottom lip before sinking into the luscious flesh and tugging, breaking through the skin so that little droplets of blood appeared. The blunette's tongue then darted out to lave over the love wound and the mortal's eyelashes fluttered rapidly.

He'd never known how lovely it was to just kiss. It was such a simple act that elicited so much bliss and Ichigo swore stars shot across the backs of his eyelids when Grimmjow's pink muscle made its way into the cavern of his mouth, intertwining with the slighter male's tongue. Neither of them inexperienced or lacking technique, they gave as much euphoria as they received, skillfully caressing the other's lips, tongue, teeth in a way that had Ichigo gripping onto cerulean strands of hair for dear life and Grimmjow reciprocating with one hand, some of the feather hairpieces coming undone, while the other toyed with the hemline of the cutout turtleneck.

The blunette angel pulled away first and they both panted for air until Grimmjow suddenly assaulted the youth's neck with almost painful nips and bites that were sure to leave a sordid collection of marks.

That was the position they were in when the door swung open.

"Where's tha love fer tha man who basically made this 'appen? Don' I get a kiss too?"

Ichigo and Grimmjow broke apart, the former crying out the Hell Hound's name in shock and the latter growling savagely at being interrupted.

Shiro cocked one hip, placing a hand on it as he stared down at the two of them with sadistically pleased, gleaming black and gold eyes, batting porcelain eyelashes.

"It's not nice ta not include me, ya know. Tell 'im, Ichi-pet," he said and the orangette had to wonder if he was really kidding around.

"What the hell do you want, Shiro?" Grimmjow said, rising to his feet and pulling Ichigo up with him. The albino pouted, lower lip jutting out to an extreme, and crossed his arms across his pale, exposed chest.

"I jus' came ta tell ya I was leavin' _if_ ya even care," he said petulantly. "I sense tha magick from before 'cross tha city."

The Fallen angel stiffened then walked back to his desk to pick up the papers written on in the foreign language Ichigo couldn't decipher, eyes scanning the strange symbols that had to be letters. The orange-haired male wanted to ask what exactly was going on, but stayed quiet in the hopes that the other two would drop enough hints and he could guess.

"You sure it's the same kind?" Grimmjow said, causing Shiro to huff indignantly.

"A' course I'm sure, I ain' neva been wrong before."

"And you're going there now?"

"Yep," the Hell Hound said, popping the 'p' when he spoke. The blunette looked from the papers to Ichigo and back again. "I ain' stupid, I know yer stayin' here with Ichi-Pet."

Grimmjow hesitated but then nodded once.

"We'll stay here until you get back," he said. "Make sure to stay hidden."

"Yea', yea', catch ya love birdies later," Shiro said, waving dismissively before passing through the portal to the club floor yet again. As soon as the door had shut behind him, Ichigo rounded on Grimmjow, one eyebrow quirked on his forehead nearly hidden by messy tangerine bangs.

The Fallen angel gave a long suffering sigh, making his way around his desk to stand in front of his Consort, placing his hands on Ichigo's upper arms.

"Before you ask; yes, this does have to do with that piece of shit excuse for a human being," he said. "And yeah, it's more than that and I can't tell you everything because I don't even know all of it. We're still trying to figure it out."

The orangette frowned deeply, freezing cold everywhere except for where Grimmjow was touching him. He shuddered and chewed on his bottom lip that was still tender from their recent playtime.

"But it's bad, right?" He sounded like a child asking for an adult to reassure them because they naively believed anything they said was the truth.

"All I know is that someone who's had it out for me for a long time and Ginjou have been working together on something," Grimmjow said.

"Sounds bad to me...," Ichigo tilted his head to stare up at the Fallen angel. He sensed he wouldn't get any further on that particular subject, so perhaps it was time to move on to something else... something he'd been wanting to know for a while now.

"Grimmjow, can I ask why you were... banished from Heaven?" The mortal realized his voice betrayed how incredibly nervous he was asking the question and averted his eyes away from Grimmjow, who was silent for several long, dragging moments, the air so thick with tension Ichigo could practically feel it.

"I don't want you to," he finally said. "But I suppose it's only fair."

"Why do you say that?"

"You left everything you had to stay with me," Grimmjow said as if it were obvious.

"I really didn't have anything so it wasn't like it was any great sacrifice." Ichigo snorted bitterly, looking back up to make eye contact with the other. The Fallen angel's expression was that of someone hiding what they truly felt, which was only to be expected of someone still so new to feelings in the first place.

"You're giving up your mortality." Grimmjow's brow knitted together as he frowned down at Ichigo.

"Yeah, I am."

"Doesn't that frighten you?"

"A little, but... I'll have Nelliel and Shiro." He paused to see the blunette's frown deepen into an outright scowl at the Hell Hound's name and suppressed a smile. "And, of course, you, so I know it'll be okay."

"Your optimism is refreshing, Ichigo," the Fallen angel said, reaching out to brush his thumb over Ichigo's cheekbone. "How can you be so positive after everything you've lived through?"

The orangette blushed a bright poppy red, feeling a delicious unease at the intense stare of which he was on the receiving end.

"I wasn't always; my whole life was shit before you bought my contract from..._ him_. But now I live in a million dollar apartment with someone who actually gives a rat's ass about me, so it's kind of hard not to be positive, you know."

"That makes sense," Grimmjow said with a smirk that would send shivers down any red-blooded mortal's spine, and surely many immortals' too. "I believe I feel that way as well."

"Really?" The orange-maned mortal clutched tightly onto the lapels of the other's suit jacket.

"Yes, really. I was a living statue before I saw you, a husk, a shell. I had eyes that couldn't see, blood that didn't flow, a heart that couldn't beat. Every night was the same, dark and empty. Now... it's different."

"You sound so cheesy," Ichigo said under his breath, eyes swiveling down to the floor as his heart raced at the words that no one was supposed to say except for the hero from some middle-aged housewife's romance novel. Grimmjow chuckled softly.

"You're right, but I can't control myself around you."

Ichigo thought that _that _was definitely _not _true, but said nothing as the blood rushed to his face in increasing amounts, making him feel lightheaded and faint. His knees buckled when the Fallen angel moved away from him, detaching his deliciously cool touch from his face and waist, but he somehow remained upright.

"It's not pretty, what I'm about to tell you, so... I hope you don't think any less of me afterwards."

The orangette didn't bother to say that Grimmjow could tell him just about anything and he would still see the other as the divine being he truly was.

"Have you ever heard of the Menai Massacre?"

Ichigo shook his head.

"In the year 61 when Northern Europe was being conquered by the Roman Empire, the city of Anglesey, Brittannia was still free and the last Celtic Druid stronghold. It was the order of Heaven that the entire city be conquered so that Druidism would die out and when the Roman Empire converted to Christianity, Britannia would as well by default."

When Ichigo's eyebrows raised in surprise, Grimmjow looked away as if in shame, his ultramarine eyes darkening with what the mortal assumed to be ancient memories.

"At the time I was a high-ranking Seraph and was ordered to oversee the invasion so that it would fall under Roman rule. I hadn't ever questioned orders before so I went willingly, but when the soldiers started to attack the Druid priests and innocents, I... changed my mind," he said, walking over to his desk to lean on the edge, crossing one foot over the other as he stared at the floor. "It sickened me that I was expected to observe an entire culture die right before me and not do a damn thing because it was_ God's will_."

"You saved them," Ichigo said, eyes wide.

"I tried," Grimmjow said bitterly. "What the history books don't say is that I wiped out half of the Roman forces before other angels showed up to stop me. The head Ophanim banished me from Heaven, letting me Fall right there into the massacre to watch as most of the city was slaughtered and burned to the ground." He snarled, one hand clenching into a fist.

"I don't understand. You tried to save innocent people's lives and you were punished for it?" the orangette said.

_Just like Nelliel_. _These angels really had their priorities skewed, didn't they? _

"I went against the direct orders of Heaven, Ichigo. An angel is forbidden from killing a human. I killed hundreds, destroyed more mortal lives than any other of our kind had before. And I was the sixth angel to Fall from grace that didn't descend into Hell." Grimmjow's sapphire stare swiveled over to meet Ichigo's once again, the fire in them startling the latter. "So I'm the Sixth Aspect of Death, Destruction."

The orange-maned human had no words, so he settled for staring blankly at the Fallen angel. His mind was racing at a mile a minute, praising Grimmjow unabashedly for trying to save the lives of innocent mortals and yelling indignantly about the unfairness of it all.

Grimmjow and Nelliel were excommunicated for risking everything to preserve human life. How could the 'servants of Heaven' really be so blind, so unjust?

"You didn't deserve that, Grimm," Ichigo finally said. "And if you think for one second that I would condemn you for trying to keep innocent people from being killed, then you really should've been banished for being a complete idiot."

The blue-haired man's ultramarine eyes widened just the slightest bit at the orangette's impassioned words, but in the next second they evened out, a wry grin pulling at his lips.

"_Grimm_?" he said.

Ichigo tried his hardest not to blush for what was probably the _sextillionth_ time that night, he really did. His efforts, however, were fruitless for he still lit up like a Christmas tree; he couldn't believe he'd just given the Fallen angel a pet name barely a month into their relationship.

"Don't give yourself an aneurysm, _Ichi_. I like it." Grimmjow barked a short laugh in a rare moment of pure light-heartedness.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just don't add 'pet' to the end and we're good." The young human waved his hand about as if he couldn't care less about the entire thing, a grin materializing on his face.

Before the blunette's laughter had even faded, the office door swung open the second time that night, the infamous white hair that appeared revealing that it was the same Hell Hound on the other side as the first.

Ichigo felt his grin fall faster than a penny dropped off the side a skyscraper as he watched Shiro stumble into the office, dropping to his knees and then to the side, exposing the numerous wounds across his alabaster skin that dripped with scarlet blood.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Heh, I am so evil these days. :3

Thank you so, so much to all of you who have reviewed or added this to your favorites/alerts. You're all **amazing **and have a little piece of my heart. ^_^

And yes, The Menai Massacre really did happen, but perhaps not the way it did in this story...

See you lovelies later~


	5. Part V: Pray for Predators

**...**

**Sinful Part V**

**Pray for Predators**

...

* * *

><p>"Shiro!"<p>

Ichigo flung himself onto the floor beside the Hell Hound's prone, blood-covered form, hands reaching out to help only to end up hovering over the other's milky white chest. Shocked to the bone, his mind was already racing like it was running for its life, questions of what he should do and how had this happened and exclamations screaming how much blood was seeping from cuts in the pale flesh and that he should do something already speeding past. His rapidly beating heart stuttered and it suddenly became difficult to get any air, his chest and stomach tightening excruciatingly in sheer panic.

Shiro's black and gold eyes were hooded and out of focus even as they stared up at the orangette, pale lips twisting into a faint but still manic grin.

"Yea' I kinda gotta few scratches while I was out," he said nonchalantly, as if he were commenting on the weather, but his voice was faint, giving away how badly he was injured.

"You think?" Ichigo gasped, a combination of dry humor and breathless desperation. However, the bit of comic relief was enough to break through his anxiety so that he was able to slowly breathe in and out a few times and his mind cleared enough for him to think properly. After a second, the orangette sensed Grimmjow's presence as the Fallen angel squatted down beside him and his eyes flickered to the side. "Grimm, take off your shirt and give it to me," he ordered.

Bright cerulean orbs flashed up to hold Ichigo's gaze and Grimmjow nodded, hurriedly tearing off his navy blue jacket and then unbuttoning his dress shirt. As the bundle of black fabric was shoved into Ichigo's hand, its owner now bare-chested, a strained wheeze escaped from Shiro's throat and hastened the human's actions. Ichigo pressed Grimmjow's shirt against the worst of the Hell Hound's wounds, applying pressure to the bleeding gash in order to help stop the bleeding.

"Just hold on, Shiro, everything's gonna be all right, okay?" he said, attempting to comfort the injured albino.

"Aye aye, cap'n," Shiro murmured, his ivory eyelashes fluttering as he fought unconsciousness but ultimately lost.

"We need to get him to a hospital; he's losing too much blood," Ichigo said, turning to his lover with wide, beseeching eyes. Grimmjow's expression was stern, his brow furrowed slightly and gaze hard and cold like steel. "Can you call your car around or something?"

"It wouldn't help," the blunette said, abruptly standing and crossing over to his desk in one long stride. He grabbed the piece of paper illustrated with the foreign symbols and stuffed it in his front pocket then returning to his lover's side, a broad hand falling to the younger male's shoulder. "Unfortunately, there aren't many emergency rooms equipped to treat demons. Come on, we'll have to seek aid from an acquaintance of mine."

It was impossible for Ichigo to respond in any way before he found himself on his feet, Grimmjow's right arm hooked around his waist and bracing him against the elder's body while his left was holding Shiro's unmoving form over his shoulder, the white-haired immortal hanging limply across the Fallen's strong back. Blinking a couple of times, Ichigo realized Grimmjow had again moved too fast for his human eyes to see and therefore was somewhat ready for when it happened again. His eyes closing reflexively, he felt the chilled wind on his face, rippling his hair, as they shot through the air.

A millisecond later the temperature dropped instantly, a shiver making Ichigo's shoulders tremble harshly. "Put your arms around my neck," Grimmjow's deep, rumbling voice came from above his head. Cautiously squinting one eye he tiniest bit to peek at his surroundings, a stunned, forceful exhale rushed from his lungs and his eyes immediately popped wide open.

There was no mistaking they were now on the roof of the nightclub - the fucking_ roof_. And not just on the flat spanse of concrete, either. No, they were standing on the goddamn ledge, staring down at the cars and flocks of people passing back and forth on the busy street stories below them.

Ichigo wasted no time heeding Grimmjow's orders, flinging his arms around the other's neck and clinging on for dear life. He tilted his head upward to stare directly into those entirely too intense lightning blue orbs. Grimmjow's face was a mask of unrelenting resolve, his features still like the stone glower of a statue but his aura and burning gaze radiating a brash certainty. "Don't be afraid," he said, a ghost of a smile passing over his feature.

"I'm not afraid," Ichigo said and strangely, it was one hundred percent true. He trusted the immortal he loved with his life and then some.

Suddenly, Grimmjow's body began shuddering violently, his shoulders which he arched back especially, and there was a terrible ripping sound, like the tearing of canvas multiplied by a thousand. Even in the dark of night, the glossy ebony of the feathers that burst through bronze shoulder blades shone vibrantly as the Fallen angel's breathtaking wings manifested themselves. The sheaths of silken midnight filled out to their full span of twenty plus feet, the vision of the outstretched appendages awe-inspiring, onyx hue glittering and feathers ruffling as their owner shook them off.

"Good," Grimmjow said, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. "Now, hold on tight."

Ichigo had barely registered what the immortal said when those great wings flapped once and then hurled themselves down, propelling them right off the ledge of the building and into the open air. Arms instantly tightening around the blunette's neck, the boy pressed himself as much as possible into Grimmjow's form, his left cheek flattening against a bare pectoral. They soared high above the ground until they paused for a fleeting second before those great wings beat once more and hurled them forward.

Stunned into silence, Ichigo watched the lights of the city's skyscrapers and streetlights race by as they followed the bustling avenue from high above the traffic jammed road, flying in between the matching lanes of hundred story buildings covered in opalescent mirrors. The view was so spectacular that for a few brief moments the current dire situation was forgotten.

"Won't people see us?" Ichigo said, raising his voice over the roaring wind.

"Nah, you mortals have a tricky habit of seeing only what you want to," Grimmjow answered, not needing to speak louder than normal for some reason. "We're almost there, anyway."

His sentence was punctuated by the abrupt sight of their apartment building up ahead, the winged male barreling directly toward its walls and nearly breaking through a window and making a crash landing on the thirty-fourth floor but careening upwards so they flew parallel with the structure. All the way to the roof they went, Grimmjow slowing their pace exponentially to what was basically a cruising speed and then stopping completely level with the rooftop ledge.

Touching down gently, the angelic male landed upon it and Ichigo once more felt solid ground underneath his feet. The latter looked up just in time to see those magnificent wings arch inward, almost cradling him, before disappearing in a burst of sparkling dust. Cringeworthy cracks and creaks were audible as he knew they settled back into place under Grimmjow's skin.

Not wasting a minute of precious time during the crisis at hand, the Fallen angel again moved with inhuman speed and the world blurred around the orange-haired human in his grasp until he came to a sudden halt in the middle of their living room. Set safely standing on the hardwood floor, he was immediately left on his own while his lover disappeared.

A fraction of a second later, Shiro's body materialized on the couch in front of him and Ichigo fell to his knees beside it, noting the demon was still unconscious. Instinctively, he reached out a hand and placed two fingers at the base of Shiro's pale throat, wondering if immortals had pulses at all. Holding his breath, he waited with statuesque stillness and began to fear the worst when he felt it - a thready, strained beat beneath the milky skin - and sighed in relief.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow's low voice sounded out of nowhere right behind him, causing his head to snap back over his shoulder. The blue-haired male was bent over the coffee table, quickly laying a few unfamiliar items on its surface. "Come closer. I need your help contacting someone who can save him."

"How am I going to do that?" Ichigo asked shakily, moving to kneel beside the table and more intently examine the strange items.

There was a small bowl, seeming to be made from porcelain or something else pure white and perfectly smooth. The only marking on its surface was in the very center, at the bottom - a hieroglyphic style single black feather that he could've sworn began dancing in the bowl for a split second before he blinked and it was still, like it'd never moved.

Next to that, lying innocently on the table was a large knife equipped with a blade nearly eight inches long that was fashioned from a blackened stone similar to flint but boasting a sort of dark golden shimmer. Its handle was wooden and held the appearance of being very old - hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. There were seven symbols engraved in a vertical line from the base to hilt, mysterious characters unlike any language currently on earth and yet very loudly speaking of matters both ancient and otherworldly.

Finally there was a thick leather cord strung about choker length with what was unmistakably small fragments of chicken bones, each one from different parts of the bird's body. Ichigo rose an eyebrow at the unusual piece of jewelry but said nothing. Across from him, Grimmjow picked up the knife in his right hand and held it out over the bowl.

"I'll tell you in a minute. But you have to be absolutely silent the whole time for this to work," the blue-eyed Fallen said, serious as the grave. Ichigo greatly wanted to ask Grimmjow what he meant but there was no time and so he simply nodded, biting his lower lip in effort.

Both large hands hovering a foot or so above the bowl, Grimmjow glared down at it and appeared to marshall all his focus and powers of concentration. He breathed in deeply, exhaling and closing his eyes simultaneously, and his lips parted and then he began chanting. Musical, lilting sounds that spoke meaning in a tongue known only to the immortals and their realm fell from his tongue in almost a whisper, muttering syllables at rapid fire in his bewitching, deep voice.

As he said his incantations, tendrils of golden mist came into view along the edge of the knife, flickering and undulating whilst the mist formed into the shape of flames licking the blade. That was when the feather inside the bowl started spinning madly like a broken compass and Grimmjow only quickened his pace, chanting faster and faster.

Ichigo then witnessed the other, who never ceased in his intonations, bring the knife's burning blade to press flat against his palm. There was not a single moment's opportunity to protest before the knife broke through flesh, slicing a thin line all the way across that instantly beaded scarlet liquid. Grimmjow turned his palm face down, removing the knife, and it was as if time slowed down dramatically as his blood formed a single droplet that clung on and quivered threateningly. Then, at last, the drop of blood plummeted into the porcelain bowl and landed on the spinning feather, pooling atop the hieroglyph and making it stop cold.

Without warning Ichigo found his hands drawn in front of him, positioned flat against each other and his elbows resting on the table. Grimmjow's fingers were adeptly intertwining the length of leather and chicken bone around each of the orangette's digits and wrists, swiftly fastening them in that position. Gazing up searchingly at the other's expression that bore visible proof of his deep concentration, Ichigo wondered what he was supposed to do now.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long for his answer, Grimmjow letting go of his hands and continuing to look down at the bowl while he instructed Ichigo on what to do.

"Pray," he said.

Ichigo nearly broke his promise to not utter so much as a syllable at the order, finding it difficult not to ask what the hell the Fallen angel meant by that single word command. Did he mean 'pray' in the traditional sense? Or was it a code or cryptic name for something else? But he knew that the teen had no knowledge of at all of such things so he couldn't possibly expect for Ichigo to understand something like that.

But if he was supposed to do just what Grimmjow'd said and _pray_, how was he even supposed to go about doing so? Who should he pray to? What specifically should he pray for? Never mind that Ichigo didn't have any experience with praying to begin with. Giving a mental huff, he realized he was losing time every passing second and shut his eyes, determined to do whatever he must to save someone who'd become his friend.

_Err... to anyone who may be... listening, I need your help. It's my friend, he's injured pretty badly and if he doesn't get any medical attention he might... he might be in a lot of trouble. Um, if someone out there can help him, please, _please_, come. I'll give you whatever I have in return if you want, I promise. Just... please._

Just when he began to believe it hadn't worked, a gust of wind blew through the room and made him open his eyes. The bowl and knife began to rattle on the table and the wind circled unnaturally around them, forming a kind of tornado that ripped through Ichigo's hair and clothes. Against his better judgement, the boy raised his arms from the table to shield his face from the air current. The wind's strength grew and grew until suddenly... it stopped.

And when Ichigo lowered his arm he saw standing atop the table was a young woman with long , wavy hair the color of burnt sienna dressed in a modest yet luxe white , long -sleeved dress overlaid in a layer of delicate lace. She was rather pretty in a chaste, virginal kind of way and had a madonna-like air of perfect innocence about her - a rarity in all corners of the earth.

"That was quite a trip," she said lightly to herself and her round , curious gray eyes landed on the shellshocked Ichigo. She bent over toward him, locks of her hair spilling forward off her shoulders. "Are you the one who summoned me here, the boy I heard asking for help?"

Luckily, he didn't have to answer her right away for Grimmjow spoke up from his side of the table, addressing the newcomer. "It was I who called you here," the blunette said, rising to his feet and prompting the woman to spin around and face him.

"Sexta! I-... I didn't realize you were here," she stammered, leaping off the table, hands snapping into position on her stomach and lower back all in one smooth, unnaturally graceful motion. Her upper body pitching forward into the proper bow used in within the Court of the Fallen to pay respect to your 'betters.' "Forgive me, I would've never-"

"Enough," Grimmjow ordered shortly and the girl promptly cut herself off mid-sentence, holding her subservient position. It was crystal clear to Ichigo that she was tremendously intimidated by his lover and that was putting it mildly. In fact, it would be fair to say she seemed scared shitless of the Fallen angel. "For the thousandth time, woman, drop the pomp and circumstance bullshit around me, all right? I have a friend who's closer to death every second we waste with niceties and you're the only one who can help him."

Hesitating a little first, the girl straightened up and let her arms return to her sides. No one had to say a thing more for her attention to flash over where she'd somehow missed Shiro lying on the couch behind Ichigo, horror crossing her features at the gory sight. She flew over to the injured demon's side, kneeling as close to the couch as possible. "My God, how awful. I can't believe he was in the room this whole time and I didn't sense that he needed my help," the girl whispered mournfully.

"He's a demon," Grimmjow said as if it explained everything and Ichigo was a bit confused when the auburn-haired woman confirmed she believed that it did.

"Oh... oh, I see," she said, stunned as she obviously hadn't expected that answer. Despite this, and what Ichigo thought to be an overly timid personality, the girl's countenance began to shift into something more resolute and capable. Pushing up her sleeves and Shiro's jacket out of the way, she grimaced upon seeing the full extent of his injuries. "All right, I need to know how he was hurt, or anything that might be useful - and some towels and needle and thread. Please."

The burst of air that swooshed past and another immediately afterwards were the only pieces of evidence that Grimmjow had taken so much as a single step when he appeared in the same spot, the sole difference a bundle he offered to the woman of the items she'd asked for.

"I'm afraid I don't have much information to give you. He staggered in through the door, bleeding, and lost consciousness before he could tell us anything," Grimmjow informed her, folding his arms across his chest. "Though I don't need anyone to tell me those gashes on his chest are claw marks."

"You may be right, Sexta. But..." the auburn-haired girl trailed off, gripping the edge of a towel and blotting the coagulating blood in the middle of the demon's chest. She swabbed the dark red liquid away from the ivory skin, Grimmjow standing over her, and then she suddenly stopped in her task, withdrawing the towel. "I've never seen anything like this before."

Ichigo didn't have a choice whether or not to move in order to see what she was talking about, feeling his body were attached to puppet strings that pulled him to his feet and over to the others, a marionette for his curiosity to manipulate. He nor his actions earned much attention and he came to silently stand directly behind Grimmjow, searching impatiently for what was causing such a reaction.

Discovering it near instantaneously he automatically cringed, pained just by looking at the clearly revealed raw, bloody gouges, three of them clustered together and each ten inches long to form one of the many identical wounds shredded into Shiro's upper body. Ichigo marveled at how the Hell Hound made it back to the office in _Sexta _still alive and continued to defy death up 'till then.

"I don't know of any creature capable of leaving marks like these," the girl admitted remorsefully, her remarkable grief for a stranger shining in her teary, slate gray eyes. "Whatever it was, it didn't know show your friend any mercy. He must be strong to have managed to escape, especially with the extent of his injuries."

"You can still save him though, can't you?" Ichigo blurted, panic spurring his lips to respond on impulse too quickly for his brain to keep up. Nevertheless, he didn't waste time pondering how he'd let the thought slip right out and berate himself for it per usual.. "I mean, it's bad but after some stitches he's going to be okay, right?"

It was pretty obvious the girl wanted to say something yet forced herself to suppress the urge, biting her lip and looking back and forth between him and Grimmjow. It seemed she was waiting on the latter's signal that it was okay to answer the burning question and it led to a tense silence lasting a very brief period of time that stretched on for an eternity.

"He'll be fine. Do whatever you must in order to bring him out of the red and at least stable for the time being," the blue-haired immortal said, strict and commanding as a drill sergeant. "How much of a head start do you think you have - five, six minutes?" The woman nodded in confirmation, again attending to the prone demon dripping blood all over the navy blue velvet upholstery and beginning to gently swab the rest of his chest currently slashed to ribbons. "Perfect. Exactly what I need," Grimmjow muttered, oozing bitter sarcasm, and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Wondering what was happening for the hundredth time that evening, Ichigo felt his lips tilt downward and he idly turned and dragged his feet as he ambled away. Ten or so steps in he remembered the stupid cord still intertwined in his fingers and lowered his gaze to his hands. Glaring at the offending item as if to set it on fire, he tried to pull them apart and only succeeded in tightening the cord's unforgiving tangles. He didn't give up, though, and kept tugging them fruitlessly, making his frustration level rise rapidly.

"Here, let me do that," he heard Grimmjow insist next to him, sounding uncharacteristically tired and enclosing the younger's hands in his own. To Ichigo's chagrin, Grimmjow merely had to pull one knot free in order for the leather to loosen and slip free. "There, now I've more than made up for whatever it is you're so clearly thinking about because you can't possibly stay mad at me."

"Is it that obvious? And here I was trying _so _hard to hide it," the teen hissed under his breath, sparing a glance over his shoulder at the female visitor whose focus was wholly on cleaning Shiro's wounds. In the corner of his eye he saw the blunette step around and straight in front of him so he faced forward again to stare right at the other's bare rippling pectorals. He was forced to tilt his chin up so he couldn't get derailed by the distraction.

"But since you asked, I really don't think you understand how much I am starting to hate your habit of leaving me out of the loop like some kind of child. And you do it even when I'm directly involved, which is total bullshit. _Nel_ was the one who explained everything about Consorts and the Court and what the hell I'd gotten myself into because you just couldn't be bothered. And now Shiro's hurt and might be dying and you're talking about foot races and head starts or whatever and I still have no idea what's really going on or who that chick is or _anything on this entire fucking planet!_"

At the very beginning of his tirade Grimmjow had calmly taken him by the arm and swiftly led them out of the living room, crossing into the main hallway during the venting of frustrations. Yet they didn't stop as soon as Ichigo ran out of steam, a bit out of breath and scowling up at the taller male, who was unaffected by the withering glare that drove mortal men to their knees. "_Now_ do we feel better?" Grimmjow asked, his grip slackening on the boy's arm and slyly traveling lower to casually slide around the waist instead.

"Somewhat," Ichigo admitted, though still upset with his lover he did feel relieved to get all that off his chest. "I hope you know that doesn't mean that the problem itself is resolved or that I'm okay with living in total ignorance of everything around me. What do you think it's like to be in my place, hmm? To be treated as if I were completely incompetent and incapable of handling the truth, even a little bit of it? Let me tell you from firsthand experience that it unbelievably, unbearably, _undeniably, _flat out _sucks_."

As soon as those last words left his lips, Grimmjow surprised him by bringing them up short in the middle of the hallway and whirling him about so he was caught within the custody of Fallen angel's embrace . " The government should just send you to negotiate with hostile nations and whatever else. You give them some of your impromptu speeches, we'd have world peace in a month tops, " the one holding him sighed, blue brows furrowing at the baffled expression Ichigo knew he was giving him. "You're pretty good at persuading me to do what it is you want, at least, though I may be at a slight disadvantage when it comes to telling you no."

"Really?" Ichigo deadpanned, unable to tell if that was meant to be some sort of joke.

"Yes, even though you cheat since you're only supposed to use your powers for good," Grimmjow admitted, raising one of his hands off of the other's waist and up to his hair to absently play with the feather hair pieces fastened in the tangerine strands. "Nonetheless, I'm tempted to make you an offer - no negotiations, no counter offers, strictly take it or leave it. Interested?"

"I'm listening."

"Good, here it is: Starting this instant , I promise to start filling you in often as possible on a need to know basis and answer any questions truthfully and to the best of my abilities. I'll agree to do all of that on one condition."

"What... ?" Ichigo narrowed his eyes in rising suspicion, thinking it strange Grimmjow gave in so easily to his demands. Why did it feel like he'd unintentionally presented a shiny, golden opportunity and it'd instantly eagerly been snatched up?

"There will be certain... details that'll need to remain a secret. Nothing significant but vital enough it be kept sealed tight for everyone's sake and you have to give me your word you won't try and pry that seal open like I know you'll undoubtedly want to," the blunette said, fiery sapphire orbs boring into the other as if searching for even the slightest sign his terms were too much to ask of his mortal lover. "So, do we have a deal?"

Teething his bottom lip while he thought it over, Ichigo considered his response, yearning to find out whatever Grimmjow was willing to share with him but loathing the fact there would be the stipulation he wouldn't just be told what he wanted to know. And when he finally gave his inevitable answer he knew inside, deep down past the denial he'd keep his word, that it was a lie.

"Done," he said. "Not that you gave me much of a choice."

"Neccessary evil, love. You can't actually believe I enjoy keeping things from you, the sole person I ever want to tell anything to and whose opinion really matters. Don't you think that I would never sacrifice that if I didn't have my reasons?" Grimmjow said, letting go of the orangette and sighing again. That and the dismal tone he'd used then, seriously lacking any of his usual sparkling, wicked appeal or energy, was a little worrying. Since they'd met a month ago this was the very first hint of weariness or fatigue he'd ever gotten from the angel. Witnessing it made his chest pang with guilt and he automatically reached out for the other man.

Oh, Grimmjow was definitely hiding something.

"Are you all right?" Ichigo asked as gently as he could, frowning slightly in concern.

"Fine. I think I'm just finding out what being tired feels like," Grimmjow muttered sluggishly, rubbing his jaw. "Fuck, if you wanna know everything that's going on listen up 'cause I have time to say it once. Okay, here it is:

"The woman out there patching up our canine friend is the High Consort to the Fourth Aspect - Quatro. He was at the meeting with Aizen, the quiet one with dark hair and green eyes, you remember. Yeah, he's a little too attached to the chit, can't leave her alone for a fucking second - a living shadow is what he is. He's going to show up looking for her any second now. Fortunately for you, that slacker Nelly hasn't yet taught you the complexities of tea service and other such important skills so you'll be spared the misery that is Quatro's company. So you don't need to do anything except wait for him to finish sucking all the joy and laughter from the air and go home with the woman. You get all that?"

"I think so..." Ichigo said slowly, brain working at full capacity to process all of the new information. "I basically have to hide from this guy is what you're saying."

"You catch on quick. Yeah, all you have to do is stay out of the living room. That is, aside from be your beautiful self, of course." Grimmjow grinned, briefly flashing his rows of pure white teeth. Then he darted forward and stole a far too short kiss, pulling away the tiniest bit to utter "Do me a favor and miss me a little, yeah? \" as his parting words and, in the blink of an eye, disappeared.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Ichigo breathed in the now very empty hallway, backing up against the wall and then sliding to the floor with a huff. He really wasn't having the best of luck that night. He could've sworn there was some higher power out there with an axe to grind for whatever reason, ensuring in every way possible he be denied what he'd originally set out hellbent that sunrise would come only when he'd had it. And yet he'd never had to work so hard for something in his life.

Was a few minutes he could spend really enjoying that perfect, magnificent body too much to ask? Was this his penance for all his sins? What fantastic irony that would be, to pay for his immoral choices in the same carnal currency.

But it wasn't the same, not really. No, in all reality this was so different it could be called the complete opposite of his old life's previous indiscretions. This was something he'd never known prior to meeting the mysterious blue-haired man in his office, the one who didn't hesitate to reach down and pull him out of the tumultuous waters of debauchery and addiction, proving himself nothing less than an angel no matter what lay beneath his feet, be it pillowy clouds or solid earth.

Realizing he was staring into space and drooling, he decided he needed to find something else to do.

* * *

><p>Forty-five minutes later and Ichigo was <em>bored<em>.

Seriously, he'd looked all over the apartment, save for the living room, in search of entertainment. However, he found that it was a rather unengaging place without the company of either Grimmjow or Nelliel. Television programming wasn't exactly stellar in the wee hours of the morning, he'd discovered flipping through the never ending channels of infomercials in the master bedroom.

Rifling through his lover's material possessions had been a bust, too. How was it a thousands of years old immortal who'd lived on earth for almost as long when he'd been banished from heaven didn't have a single interesting thing anywhere? For instance, where the hell had he been keeping that bowl and knife they'd used earlier? Surely there had to be more artifacts of that nature.

Currently he was pacing aimlessly throughout the main hallway, crossing it to amble in and out all of the rooms while he sighed heavily for the six hundredth time. His mind inevitably wandered back to Shiro and if his condition had worsened since he'd last seen him. Despite the severity of his injuries, Ichigo couldn't even imagine for a moment the Hell Hound dying. It'd been disturbing enough to see the livewire of a demon unconscious and bleeding.

Shaking his head to rid it of all the gruesome thoughts he had every time he was reminded of the white-haired demon, Ichigo knew he had to figure out something to occupy his mind for at least a little while...

But _what_?

Frustrated, the orangette continued on his track along the hallway and was innocently minding his own business when he heard the sound of someone talking trailing its way down from the living room. Only human, Ichigo stepped back flat against the wall and inched along the rest of the hall to the archway at the end that just so happened to lead into the living room. Then he carefully crept over to the wall directly next to the edge of that open space, listening for that voice again.

"I see you used a common summoning prayer to call upon a highly gifted Consort and rip her from wherever she may be in order to force her here and do your bidding," it spoke in an eerily calm manner, so quiet Ichigo had to strain in order to make out what he was saying. "And on the behalf of a demonic mutt. Somehow, I am not surprised."

Scowling at what he heard this person saying with absolutely no shame, he mouthed '_what the fuck_' and confused why they seemed to be getting away with it. "I see we're going to have to simplify this so you can understand." That was Grimmjow, talking to his guest in an unamused drawl and Ichigo imagined him to be slumped in his favorite chair by the fireplace, perhaps a drink in hand and genuinely not giving a shit.

"He's not some common demon, Quatro. He's the Hell Hound, which trumps any of their highest ranking titles by leaps and bounds and he has been singlehandedly flawlessly executing the most important task they've got down there - a perfect track record, if you can believe it. If he were to die there'd be chaos among all of us,it doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

"You greatly exaggerate his worth. Understandably, but not excusably, your opinion of the Hound has been colored by your long-lived friendship with him. There are many immortals who could readily take on the responsibility of dragging the souls of the damned down into the Pit in the event of his demise. They may do their job without transforming into a giant beast of a canine for dramatic effect."

Yeah, Ichigo totally understood Grimmjow's attitude about this Quatro. He idly mused whether something happened between the two in the past or if they'd always hated each other. "What I wouldn't pay to see you say that to his face. In fact, why don't you stick around until he wakes up? Just don't bring your coffin to sleep in or hang upside down from my ceiling or anything like that, this is a family-oriented place."

"Insincere as that invitation may be, every passing moment I spend in your presence is what I imagine it like to having the plague, only without being able to look forward to the sweet relief of death."

"Look, Quatro, I know you can't stand it when the other boys and girls play jacks with '_your_' friend and I get that, I do. Think of it like this, though, that maybe in the back of her mind she believes you're doing her a disservice hoarding her all to yourself like you do. She knows she's capable of doing bigger and better things but she can't realize that potential boarded up in your creepy dungeon twenty four - seven. One day she can't take it anymore and snaps, just loses it completely. Hey, What will you do then, because I don't want to jump to conclusions but you'll probably be number one on her shit list."

"Absurd as that scenario us, I assure you she has the freedom to come and go as she pleases."

"And you simply go wherever she does, brilliant. You think she'll ever catch on to your master plan?"

"Your intentions to initiate an emotional reaction are pitifully transparent, as always."

"Is that so? Because I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you on that," Grimmjow said, his already deep voice lowering an octave or two. "I'm not waiting for something that'll never happen, I'm having way too much fun getting inside your head - that's where I see it get to you, right up there where we both used to live until _they _came along. You put up a good front, I'll give you that, but you can't hide what's really going on from me. Oh and... _there i_t is. Just beautiful, babe."

Though all he could only hear what was being said, Ichigo could feel the tension radiating from the room and, in the spirit of being completely honest, he found this side of Grimmjow _extremely_ attractive. Simply listening to that dominating, alpha male come out so intensely had him shuddering as it called to that primal instinct so much stronger than any rational thought.

"Speaking of hiding, how is your Consort? I hope better than last I saw him, poor boy," Quatro said "He looked so miserable I can't help but worry."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Ichigo grumbled '_asshole_'under his breath listened to the stretch of absolute silence that followed. He was insulted by the intentional undertone to the other Fallen angel's comment, of course, but he hoped Grimmjow wouldn't take too much offense. He didn't know if the apartment was built to withstand a full blown angel fight, what with their godlike strength and all. And so, waiting anxiously for something of that nature to happen, he never noticed the approaching footsteps behind him.

"Can you hear anything they're saying? I hope they're not going at like cats and dogs again."

Ichigo was caught so off guard at the voice coming out of nowhere he jumped about a foot in the air and clasped his hand to his chest directly over his racing heart. He whipped his head to the origin of the pleasantry and took in the sight of the auburn-haired girl's sheepish but kind smile. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you."

Eyes flickering lower, Ichigo quickly glimpsed the heavy choker embroidered in green and black and boasted a hulking emerald and a number four as its pendants. He noticed the resemblance between it and his own Consort choker given to him by his Sexta, absentmindedly touching the sapphire dangling in the hollow of his throat. Apparently she saw something in Quatro he didn't.

"No, no, it's fine. I just wasn't paying attention," Ichigo hastened to assure the young woman. His surprise quickly wearing off, his mind returned to the most pressing issue at hand and he clenched his fingers in and out nervously. "How is he? Do you know yet if he's going to be all right?"

"Ah, well I finished stitching him up a few minutes ago and getting his condition stabilized and Sexta helped me move him to a bed in another room. He's still unconscious and I believe when he wakes up tomorrow he'll be a bit sore and disoriented but he should make a full recovery."

"God, that's... that's a relief. Thank you,-," Ichigo paused, realizing he didn't know the girl's name since he'd never heard it the whole time she had been there. "Sorry, we didn't get the chance to properly introduce ourselves. I'm Ichigo, I... live here with Grimmjow, or Sexta as you would call him."

"Yes, I know," she said, beaming with joy that gleamed in her big gray eyes and then held out a hand. "My name's Orihime. It's nice to at last meet you in person after hearing how Sexta of all people finally found you. I can definitely see why the powers above chose you for him - it's all there in the eyes..."

"Y-yeah, nice to meet you, too," he said, taking her hand and shaking it. So far she seemed to be a pretty nice albeit a little spacy, but overall okay in his book. Although the prolonged once over she was giving him as one would a slide under a microscope was mildly unnerving. "Thank you for coming, again. Is there anything we can give in return, if you like? Anything you want."

"Oh yes, that's right, the prayer," Orihime said, refocusing her gaze to the acceptable settings. "You really are something special, to remember the promise you made in a moment of desperation. So, anything I want you said?"

"Uh, yeah, you earned it."

"Hmm, it's going to be difficult to narrow it down to one thing. Okay, let's see... what do I want, what do what I want... " Orihime trailed off obviously thinking hard as she tapped her cheek with the tip of her index finger. Then she clasped her hands together under his chin and lit up like a Christmas tree, apparently having thought of something perfect. "Do you have any red bean paste?"

"Bean paste? Erm, are you... sure that's what you want?" Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to figure out if this chick was for real."

"I have everything I really want, except we're out of red bean paste and it's my favorite."

"That makes sense," he said, chuckling sheepishly. "I don't think we have any spare cans in the apartment right now, so-,"

"That's okay, Ichigo, you can always give it to me next time. We should be getting home, anyway, it's getting close to sunrise," Orihime waved him off, her face falling into a slight frown. "I'm sorry about Ulquiorra. Sometimes he gets a little carried away when Grimmjow teases him and says things he doesn't mean. I guess even after five hundred years he still needs practice controlling his temper. Hold on, I'll go grab him so that he can apologize."

"No, don't!" Ichigo hissed urgently, sidestepping in front of the girl and blocking her from going into the living room. "Knowing deep down he truly is sorry is good enough for me. Seriously, don't worry about it. I understand how Fallen can get sometimes, trust me."

Ichigo was so taken aback by her use of five hundred years that it took a good moment for him to figure out she probably meant that Quatro had met her that length of time ago and gained human emotion yet still hadn't mastered the art of dealing with them. gaze drifting up to the ceiling in a show of exasperation then returning forward.

"Yes, I suppose you would," Orihime agreed amiably. "Oh and one last thing; I've known Sexta for a long time and I can see the difference in him because of you. You've made his life much brighter than you realize, Ichigo."

Not having the slightest clue what to say to that, Ichigo didn't say anything in response. He found it so hard to believe, after all, that somehow he just by being there at that precise moment in the nightclub so that when Grimmjow had laid first eye upon him the immortal's life had been changed forever. Why on earth, heaven, or hell would he be the one that gave Grimmjow the gift of human emotion? It wasn't that he didn't feel stupidly lucky that it had been, but seriously - why?

During his deep philosophizing, Ichigo absently realized that the living room had been deathly silent, which wasn't a great sign.

Then she was on the other side, walking into the lion's den where he imagined the two occupants were staring each other down. He listened to her footsteps and a murmured greeting from the two Aspects in the room upon her entrance, saying it was time she be going. Quatro agreed with her, probably standing from his chair and joining his Consort. He heard Grimmjow once again thank Orihime for healing Shiro and bid her a good night. Then there was a whoosh easily recognizable as the aftermath of an angel moving at inhuman speed, which he assumed were their two guests leaving the apartment.

"You can come out now, sweetheart," Grimmjow called out to his hiding spot, forcing him to suppress the amused smile tilting his lips and step out into the archway. His eyes instantly went to where the man was reclining in the massive wingback chair by the fireplace, a tumbler dangling in the hand of the arm hanging limply beside the chair, filled with almost all ice and that last sip. Pretty much exactly what Ichigo had pictured.

"Don't tell me I've driven you to drinking already," Ichigo said, crossing his arms across his chest while he took his time lazily sauntering toward where the chair was located. He made a point of not looking anywhere near the blue velvet couch bearing a new set of dark, heavy stains, mind too overwhelmed by everything that'd happened since the night started.

"A lot of good that would do me, I can't even taste this shit anymore," Grimmjow scoffed, tossing back the rest of his drink and then hurling it into the empty fireplace, the sound if glass shattering ringing throughout the room. Ichigo winced upon hearing it and instinctively backed up a step.

Brows knitting together in a concerned frown, he gazed searchingly at the one behaving oddly. "Grimmjow," he said, earning the attention of a pair of simmering cerulean orbs, something in them calling to him so strongly he was practically yanked forward all the way to the chair. He leaned against the side, reaching out to brush his fingers gingerly through the electric blue, tousled locks of hair, a hand snapping up to catch his wrist and bringing it to that pair of enticingly full lips. "What's wrong? Remember, you swore that you would answer honestly."

"Hn, I'm starting to have second thoughts about that," Grimmjow muttered, not bothering until afterwards to remove Ichigo's hand away from his mouth. "Nothing's wrong, I'm 'tired'."

"C'mon Grimm, you can tell me what's the matter. I promise won't even say anything if you only want me to listen. Please, just... let me in," the orangette pleaded, ready to do whatever was neccessary to comfort his lover, who circled a slightly rough thumb along the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist covering the delicate, faint blue vein. "You don't always have to be the rock in this relationship, you know. You don't always have to be the strong and silent one. I can be there for you, like you were for me when I needed you to be." Giving the other male some time to think, Ichigo waited while chewing his lower lip raw from the anxiety.

"You never cease to amaze me how you manage to be so blind to how much you already do all that and more," Grimmjow finally said, a smirk on his lips while he shook his head in disbelief. "All I need is for you to just be near me, all right? You don't have to waste time worrying about me."

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, you are unbelievable," Ichigo huffed in exasperation at the stubbornness of the other man's, jerking his hand free and waited for Grimmjow's adorably puzzled face to gaze up at him questioningly. Then swiftly turned sideways and let himself drop directly onto the blunette's lap, who grunted at the unexpected weight. "However, I can't afford to be upset with you at the present time," Ichigo confessed nonchalantly, wrapping an arm around Grimmjow's neck and walking his fingers up the angel's chest playfully. After all that'd happened that night he figured they could use a break to enjoy themselves. "It would be... counterproductive."

"May I ask why?"

"Ah, it's all rather unfortunate, really," Ichigo said, sighing thematically and beginning to trace his fingertips along the other's collarbone and pectorals. "You see, it was my intention this whole night to do anything I could to tempt you into having a bit of fun entailing more than we ever have - you know, should be easy enough, wouldn't you think? Hah, that's where we were both very, very wrong. Throughout the course of the night everything that could've possibly gone wrong did, terribly, terribly wrong. Then not too long ago I thought I had given up and accepted disappointment but again I was wrong, isn't that wild? It would seem, after all this time, that the desire I had for you and the things you could do to me is still there and it's so hot I can barely stand it. And now here we are, finally alone... "

"Ichigo?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you know you can't say things like that and get away with it without any consequences."

"I know. I'm counting on it."

"Mmm, don't worry, love," Grimmjow rumbled from deep in his chest and Ichigo almost yelped when burly arms like bars of steel suddenly caught him, holding him captive in the other's heated embrace. "I'll go easy on you this time."

The world blurred around them and flew by at top speed. Ichigo barely realized they'd stopped before he felt himself falling backwards, landing bouncily on the plush mattress of their bed with Grimmjow above him. They both froze in their position a long second and he dared not so much as breathe, staring fathoms deep into glittering aquamarine depths. Then they were lunging for each other, lips crashing together in a bruising kiss.

Ichigo ran his hands over every square inch of Grimmjow's body he could reach, ascending rapidly into a passionate frenzy. He wasted no time parting his mouth to deepen the kiss, allowing that skilled, powerful tongue to plunge deep into his wet orifice and smooth over every surface hungrily in order to taste all of him. A loud, raunchy moan escaped his throat of which any proper porn star would be jealous, earning a low growl of approval from Grimmmjow. The older male was pinning him to the bed now, his own legs easily parting to allow those muscular thighs in between and a hot, bulging groin to brush along his.

Twin groans of pleasure sounded as their most intimate areas rubbed against each other, the friction making Ichigo's eyes roll up into his head. Sharp teeth bit his lower lip whilst his palms slipped underneath the shirt of the blue-haired sex god over him and slid up that spanse of smooth, toned flesh. Kissing the teen a few more times, Grimmjow grabbed onto his hip with one hand and pushed the hem of his turtleneck up to his waist with the other. "Fuck, Ichigo," he murmured against the smaller's open, panting mouth. "I won't be able to stop if don't slow down."

"No... don't stop," Ichigo gasped pleadingly, sliding his hands across the blunette's broad, strong back and laying a series of butterfly kisses on the other's mouth. "Please, don't stop. I want it, it's okay." He didn't think he could bear it if Grimmjow pulled away from him no, especially not with how the man was currently moving his shirt higher to fervently caress the sensitive bare skin underneath. He was more than ready to go all the way with his lover right then and there. He wanted it more than anything he's ever wanted before.

"Ichi, you're killing me here," Grimmjow husked, trailing his mouth away from the orangette's and down to his fully covered neck. But he certainly didn't make any attempt to stop, using his teeth to pull away the fabric and expose the other's throat.

"Grimm," Ichigo whined, training his best big puppy dog eyes on the immortal at his neck and pouting petulantly. He was burning with deep desire everywhere on his body, a raw, primitive hunger for the one in his arms he's never known existed before. Blood was rushing to the place between his thighs, making his pants tight as it pulsed pleasurably within his groin and he felt himself harden exponentially. "Please, I need it. I need you."

He was exultant when Grimmjow ravenously seized his lips for another explosive kiss, thinking the lip lock a symbol of accession and that'd he won. But the other's deliciously possesive mouth tore away from his, garnering a displeased mewl, and then he felt its warmth on his forehead where it touched him briefly in a chaste gesture of affection. "I gave you my word we would wait until you become immortal," Grimmjow whispered lowly, the strain of exerting such an impressiv amount of self-control showing in his voice. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Ichigo blinked several times, stunned by the rejection, but it hadn't yet sunk in when he hissed deliriously at the sudden pleasure that rocked through him due to a large hand cupping the heated hardness between his legs.

"But that doesn't mean I won't take care of you," Grimmjow said, his aura so incredibly dark and sensual it was hard not to come right at that moment. Ichigo tried to look into the elder's sapphire orbs yet found his vision too unfocused at the physical bliss he currently felt. Hell, he was practically going cross-eyed it was so intense. "Feel good?"

Answering intelligibly was an impossibility, the gasping moans he was making the only sounds he was capable of, and so he settled for nodding dazedly. There was a satisfied rumbling that came from Grimmjow's chest and the grip on the teen's arousal tightened, lining up perfectly with the shape of his manhood in order for that wicked hand to hold most of it and beginning to stroke the sensitive area through the fabric of his pants. A breathless keen slipped past Ichigo's lips and his fingers twisted into bright blue strands of hair, throwing his head back once Grimmjow began a steady pace.

"Oh my god, yes... " came his soft, kittenish cries. He'd never felt such euphoria at another's touch, the sensation more than all his other sexual encounters combined. It was unreal, how he could possibly be experiencing from simply being fondled through his jeans. "So good... "

"That's it, baby," Grimmjow's erotically predatory voice cooed into his neck, hot, slick tongue laving the pulse point. Then the sly devil picked up the pace of his ministrations, creating more heavenly friction and causing Ichigo to wantonly buck his hips. He could already feel it, the tightening of his muscles, the quickened heartbeat, the frantic anticipation of what was ahead. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, either, it was barreling toward him like a freight train.

"Grimm... I'm close... " he panted senselessly, arching up into the other's tantalizing touch and circling his hips repeatedly to try and get more stimulation. He could see the light up ahead and he needed to get there, needed the dazzling nirvana and transcendental release it promised. He was almost there, Grimmjow's overwhelming presence spurring him even closer to the edge with its nearly suffocating sexuality. "Oh my god, Grimm... jow," he gasped in ecstasy, toes curling and clinging onto the older male's solid frame as he was hurled into the best orgasm of his life.

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, ringing in his ears, and his entire vision went a blinding white. Milky ropes of fluid shot from his sex at the peak of his climax onto the material of his jeans and a pleasant throbbing followed, the orgasmic rush consuming him to the core. After the highest point he swiftly came falling back to earth, utterly relaxed while spots appeared before his eyes until his sight returned to normal and his breathing and heartrate slowed steadily. The warm, mellow air of afterglow wrapped around him, Ichigo turned his head so he could be face to face with Grimmjow.

Finding the man smirking contentedly at him, he was unable to stop the slight smile of his response. "Wow, that was... how did you even do that?" he whispered, not even irritated in the least when the smirk of content graduated into a wickedly pleased, arrogant grin worthy of the Grinch himself.

"The pleasure's all mine," Grimmjow said, rubbing small circles into the human's hipbone using his thumb. "Watching you just now was easily the sexiest thing I've ever seen." A dark flush of rose red stained Ichigo's cheekbones and warmed his entire face at hearing that, highly doubting such a thing to be true.

"But what about you?" Ichigo asked, reaching down with every intention of reciprocating even as he did. He barely brushed his fingertips over the zipper of Grimmjow's pants when his hands were caught and drawn away from the area, causing him to frown deeply in confusion. Why was his lover, a red-blooded male, refusing the opportunity to have someone he was supposed to be attracted return the favor? "Did I do something wrong...?"

"Tch, don't be stupid," Grimmjow said, letting go of the orangette's hands and propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down at the other with an unreadable expression.

"So, then why did you... ?"

"Hey, I told you I can only go so far before I reach the point of no return and won't be able to stop," the blunette explained, arching an eyebrow suggestively. "That would definitely be past that point, especially if you were doing it."

"I'll... take it as a compliment then, I guess," Ichigo said, pushing himself up do that he was level with that marvelous face he loved and caressing the plane of one cheek tenderly. "I had no idea you were such a gentleman. I feel like such a lady right now." Batting his eyelashes coquettishly, he was rewarded by a small chuckle before he dropped the act and spoke again, this time with no false pretense, wanting to relay how strongly he meant what he said. "No, but seriously... for you to keep your promise means a lot to me. I haven't considered myself useful for anything else but that to anyone in my life, like I was worth anything more to someone. But you know what? It feels really, _really_ good."

In spite of trying his hardest to stifle the powerful wave of emotion that made his throat tighten and eyes sting. Embarrassed by his second bout of tears that night, he initiated a kiss so electrically charged it was practically bone-melting in the hope it distracted Grimmjow thoroughly enough he wouldn't notice how the person he was lip locked with was choking back chest-heaving sobs. Unsurprisingly, it didn't exactly work, especially right after the Fallen angel broke the kiss and Ichigo hurried to defend himself.

"S-sorry, I can't believe this is happening again b-but I want you to know I-... I'm not doing it because I'm sad. I'm a-actually really happy, I swear," he said through his uneven breathing, closing his eyes because he was too mortified that he was acting like such a little crybaby bitch. "It's your fault for pulling that romance novel crap on me, I don't know how to respond to that kind of stuff, okay!" He punctuated that sentence by punching Grimmjow's shoulder, who didn't even have the decency to be affected at all.

"Hey, just breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth and all that good stuff," the blunette told him, still obviously unnerved by tears. However, his advice was helpful and Ichigo did what he said, calming down almost instantly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said equally as much to himself as to Grimmjow. "Shit, it's probably getting really close to sunrise. What time is it?" There was the sound of rustling sheets as the other male turned to look at the clock then a moment of silence that he harshly shattered.

"Goddamn it, it's fucking six o'clock!" he snarled, the unexpected noise making Ichigo leap a foot off the mattress though the urgency of that information didn't hit for another full second.

"Shit, are you serious!" he exclaimed, the question obviously rhetorical and therefore he didn't wait for a response, scrambling off the bed and onto the floor. "Don't move, okay? I'll get you something to sleep in so just stay right there. I'll be right back!" Ichigo ordered the male on the bed, racing across the room and inside the spacious walk-in closet. He fumbled with the drawer handles, opening and shutting and back again as he grabbed a pair of silk pajamas purchased for him by, who else, Nelliel (who he hoped had made it back home and was now slumbering away in her bed.)

The desperate need to be in bed before sunrise was normal to him after living with Grimmjow for a month, though he wasn't in the same danger of burning alive in the light of day. He hadn't actually seen the sun longer than that but he found he didn't miss it, much more appreciative of night's shadowy beauty.

Dressed in his pyjamas and clutching a clean pair of boxer briefs that Grimmjow could change into, Ichigo sprinted to the massive structure of the high tech resting place specially designed for Fallen angels. Snatching the remote off the dresser, he practically dove into bed and swore under his breath as he glimpsed the lightening sky through the blinds. He fell back against the plush mountain pillows, frantically mashing the button to activate the metal sheet curtains that immediately slammed shut over the windows and then pressing the large red button that controlled the bed.

Sighing in relief, he could finally relax as the massive protective casing steadily enclosed the mattress from the top and bottom, the impenetrable pod it created ensuring the occupants could rest easy. "Grimm, here, put these on," Ichigo whispered, holding the underwear out for the man to take, but when nothing happened he turned on his side and squinted trying to see in the pitch black. Impossible with his human eyesight, he reached out and felt around until he touched the body bewitched utterly motionless by the unnatural sleep cast over Fallen angels sunrise to sunset.

Tossing the boxer briefs to the end the bed, Ichigo closed his eyes, lying there a few seconds after which he opened them again and shuffled himself closer to the slumbering immortal in the bed, sidling right up against the unmoving figure. Much more comfortable curled against his lover's familiar frame, he let his eyes flutter closed and at last that chaotic night came to its end.

Everything else, however, was just beginning.

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, it's been a while, I know. I worked really hard to make this the best it could be for you guys since you had to wait for it, including practically rewriting the entire thing while editing. I tried to throw a bit of everything in, too - comedy, romance, drama, a little action *wink wink nudge nudge*.

Hope you enjoyed. :)


	6. Part VI: Darkness Rising

**Sinful Part VI**

**Darkness Rising**

...

* * *

><p>When Ichigo awoke the next night, nightfall had passed by two hours and he found himself alone in the large lavish bed he shared with his immortal lover.<p>

The metal sheath designed to protect said lover from the sun, whose rays would immediately set invisible flame to the flesh and hellish, fiery pain upon any Fallen angel, had been opened fully to let in the faint dusky light of evening. This confused Ichigo, whom had grown accustomed to glorious 'mornings' when he was met by the strikingly dazzling blue-haired man at his side with tender yet no less passionate kisses.

His hands slid across the midnight blue satin sheets beside him, feeling the silken fabric cold and surmising that Grimmjow had long since awoken and slipped out of bed - most likely as soon as the last beam of sunshine disappeared underneath the steady horizon. Frowning, he stretched his legs and arms and sat up, tossing the blankets to the side. His bare feet had only just touched the chilled hardwood floor when he spotted an ivory envelope propped against the lamp on the nightstand with elegant script spelling out _Sweetheart _in sapphire ink.

Grumbling under his breath that the maudlin nickname was soon becoming far too popular with his blunette love, Ichigo plucked the envelope up and unfolded the back. Inside was a small, thick stationery card stained with the same beautiful inked handwriting that read:

* * *

><p><em>Summoned for mandatory audience with Aizen and the Court. Will return before eight o'clock. We can go out for dinner afterwards.<em>

_Love,_

_G_

_P.S. The mutt is still asleep in the guest room. I'll deal with him later._

* * *

><p>Tangerine brows furrowed, the mind behind them ticking away with possibilities for why Grimmjow had been called in for some sort of emergency meeting with that prick Aizen and if the contents of what they may be discussing had anything to do with either the attack on Shiro last night or especially the things Grimmjow was ever so discreetly hiding.<p>

Okay, obviously there was a threat to their community - one that had come to blows with the Hell Hound himself, and that meant whoever it was they were no joke. Not to mention, Ichigo did remember Grimm telling him that Ginjou and his gang had some part in whatever it was. Yet what could mere mortals be doing playing such a dangerous game with such powerful opponents.

By the time the orangette realized he'd been fretting over the previous twenty minutes had passed and he'd chewed his lower lip raw. Sighing, he pushed himself off the bed and glanced at the clock, a zing of alarm dashing up through him at it telling him he had forty-five minutes in which to get ready for this dinner with Grimmjow (which he could technically consider a date, right?)

"Shit, shit,_ shit_," he muttered fiercely, padding hurriedly across the bedroom to the spacious walk-in closet he and Grimmjow used to store their entire wardrobe (though Ichigo's continued to expand due to a certain sea-foam haired fashionista whose access to her ward's credit cards resulted in tons upon tons of online orders being shipped to the apartment.) The sheer amount of clothing items ever so neatly displayed in a meticulous color-coded manner Nelliel herself had organized was overwhelming, yet Ichigo was satisfied that for once now that Nel was away visiting friends he could choose an outfit for himself.

This was harder than he'd imagined, he soon realized. Too many options made it difficult to narrow it down to even just a few contenders and there was also the fact that Grimmjow had never said where this dinner date was going to be so there was the added stress of wondering if he would be over or underdressed. God, he'd never had to worry about this before his beloved had sought him out for that fateful meeting. All Ginjou had ever ordered he wear were the skimpiest clothes he could find that still blatantly showed he was a young man whose body had sharp planes and angles instead of supple curves.

Ichigo's lip curled up in a sneer of disgust at the thought of that scumsucking bastard who'd used _his _body and treated it as if it were a toy to be passed around from customer to customer. Well, that was of course only after the slimy, sleazy prick had gotten the orange-haired boy hooked on heroin so he could control a desperate nineteen year-old addict with that slow-acting poison.

It was most likely those memories floating back up to the surface of his consciousness that Ichigo abandoned his unique slightly androgynous/slightly gothic/slightly club kid style and decided to go for something a little more conservative, which Nelliel must have foreseen happening because among the darker, thicker fabric-adorned clothes he discovered precisely what he was looking for.

Flipping through the rack of tops, tunics, and shirts Ichigo stumbled upon an ebony Topman skinny fit blazer, a Ralph Lauren crimson extra-trim fit dress shirt, Rag & Bone skinny dark wash jeans and black officer boots, and to top it all off a very fitting platinum feather pendant on a long matching chain. Once he was finished donning his outfit, Ichigo checked himself out in the body-length mirror and smoothed his hands over his front, tracing the outline of the protective rosary underneath his shirt. He had to say, this might've been the best he'd looked in ages. The clothes were really _'him' _and without any promiscuous nuance whatsoever. Plus, he'd skipped the face paint in favor of a more _au naturale_, fresh faced look.

He had to admit, that skinny, pale, grim, hollow-eyed boy who'd walked into the office at Sexta was no longer - a faint, shallow ghost in the back of his mind. Never had he thought that would change.

Ichigo Kurosaki was now vibrant, vital, _valuable_. He was somebody worthwhile and he could say without shame he was glowing and radiant with newfound love, something that made his flesh luminous, eyes sparkle, and smile glitter like an earthbound star.

The smallest of smiles tilting his lips at the recognition of how far he'd come and just who he had to thank for it, the orangette exited the wardrobe and then the bedroom. He stepped through the hallway as quietly as he was able, recalling the wounded beast in repose slumbering in his home and the words of warning to let him be. Though Ichigo believed that really had to mean just don't wake Mr. Hell Hound Shirosaki up and allow him to sleep off the no doubt excruciating pain of his wounds.

Creeping up to the guestroom door, the youth let his protective nature get the best of him and knew he had to at least check in on the demonic being and make certain he was all right. Shiro was his friend and it was the least he could do were his mental reassurances as he slowly turned the knob and cracked the door open so that only a sliver of the space was visible.

Shirosaki was indeed still slumbering deeply, his body laying above the dark blue and light gray damask striped bedclothes where his bare, bandaged chest rose and fell with his steady breathing. His long sugar white locks were splayed out around his head like a halo upon the storm gray pillows and his handsome porcelain features were peaceful, his demeanor like that of some sort of pagan god in an enchanted sleep. It was eerie, Ichigo pondered, to lay eyes upon a being so beautiful while knowing he to be the one to drag the chosen ones to the Underworld.

Satisfied that his friend was all right for the time being, Ichigo stepped back and allowed the door to slide closed with a soft click, tiptoeing down the rest of the hallway as extra insurance that he did not disturb the Hell Hound's slumber until he reached the double door entrance to the main parlor. He shifted through the opening and into the next room, eyes immediately flickering over to the wall of windows at his left even while he continued to walk forward. It was impossible to not look, the intense portrait of nighttime beauty the city's glimmering light spectacular like a lit Christmas tree on the Fourth of July. Ichigo did not like to remember what the city looked like during the day - dim, gray, dingy - not now when he was lucky enough to always experience its after dark magnificence.

He flopped down on the wingback armchair that was usually Grimmjow's seat, casually slouching in the roomy chair and resting one elbow on the arm so that he could cushion his chin comfortably while he took in the view that never got old. It would be twenty more minutes until the blue-haired angel was supposed to return anyway.

And yet Ichigo heard noise coming from the entrance to the penthouse by the elevator a mere two minutes later. There was the _ding _that signaled someone had stopped on that floor and the faint footsteps of the always inconspicuous manservant moving to greet the new arrival. Thinking he knew who this newcomer was, though eighteen minutes earlier than promised, Ichigo leapt to his feet and started a brisk walk to the foyer which was as much as he could slow his pace down from the full out sprint for which the desire had sprung within him. His morning had been so lonely without his beloved's company...

He was around the corner when he heard it.

_BANG._

The incredibly loud blast was followed by the shattering of glass and dull thump, all of which Ichigo barely registered as he darted around the corner. Instinct was controlling his every motion and it ordered him to instantly find out why a gun had been fired in his own home. That reason was easy to determine when he rounded the corner into the foyer and was met by the sight of a figure of a man he'd rejoiced at thinking was out of his life for eternity.

"Ichigo, it's been too long."

The man who spoke was standing in between the elevator doors, their sensors keeping them completely open. He was wearing jeans and an aviator leather jacket with fur around the collar and the hood, his jet black hair swept back save for two strands on either side, and a mad, confident grin. Oh, and he was also pointing the barrel of a gun right at the orangette, who froze on the spot.

On the marble floor was their loyal, quiet servant lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side, his empty eyes and the blood pooling beneath him on the graphite-colored surface all that was needed to decipher his tragic death. He must have hit the table holding the large vase on the way down as glass and soft blue roses were scattered across the floor in a heartbreaking chaos.

"Don't you look pretty, all classed up by your owner in nice things like some kinda Stepford wife. Hope all of it hasn't gone to your head though, Ichi. You're still nothin' but a whore, ya know."

Ah, Ginjou hadn't changed at all.

Ichigo didn't say anything, unwilling to give the other man that push he needed to shoot the younger and also attempting to use all his concentration on what he could do to possibly disarm the bastard. He lifted his hands palm up and took a few steps forward and to the side, which Ginjou countered, grinning as he was definitely enjoying every last second of this.

"Aw, is Ichi scared?" he mocked, lowering his weapon arm, and Ichigo's heartrate. He put his free hand over his heart and softened his grin to a friendly smile and Ichigo was reminded of the old days when he'd thought the brunette to be a good person before the truth came out. "You can relax, baby, I ain't gonna shoot you. I even promise ya won't get so much as a bruise or scrape if you jus' come with me like a good boy."

"What?" Ichigo blurted before he could stop himself, his hands falling. "You want me back working for you?"

"Hey, you were a... fabulous employee," Ginjou said, guffawing. "But I got a a better offer than your blue knight in shinin' armour gave and I'm nothin' if not a businessman."

"Tch, that's really just too bad, Ginjou, my 'knight in armour' destroyed my contract," Ichigo scoffed, crossing his arms though his body was tensed and ready if he should need to move quickly. "Sorry, but I'm a free man, now, and I'm not going anywhere with you. You'd have to kill me first."

Okay, maybe not a great choice of words but luckily, it seemed that Ginjou intended on taking him away alive to wherever he was trading the boy for a larger sum than Grimmjow had originally paid. The elder shot forward, free hand stretched out to grab the other. Ichigo swiftly leapt back out of the way so Ginjou's arm swung wildly through the air. However, the orange-haired man could not prepare for another attack as his heel slipped on the blood covering the marble floor, sending him crashing down on his back in the puddle of sticky, scarlet liquid.

Wincing and groaning at the pain shooting up his spine, Ichigo barely managed to scramble backwards when Ginjou lunged for him, gun now tucked away so that both his hands could grasp the other's ankles. The orangette kicked and pulled yet the man held on, another manic grin crossing the older male's face as he let go of one leg to reach into his coat pocket. Ichigo growled whilst he continued to get away, his hands helplessly sliding on the slippery floor.

"Well if you won't go nicely, maybe I can entice ya to some 'a _this_?" Ginjou grunted in part anger and part sarcasm, his hand whipping out so that the light could glint on the small piece of metal jutting out from his fist. Ichigo's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he took in what his former employer held, eyes flashing over the thin silver needle, the clear plastic syringe with numbers labeled on the side, and most of all the muddy brown, clear liquid inside. "C'mon, I know you want some 'a this bad medicine I got right here, don't ya? Come on, Ichi, you walk with me into the elevator and out the building and I'll give you a taste of this sweet, sweet stuff. I know you want it _bad_."

Ichigo's mind went haywire while his physical body stilled utterly. Staring down the substance that used to make his life worth living, the stuff that kept him going, made him want to get out of bed in the morning... Well, it was maddening. God, it made him feel so good...

Cerulean flashed through his subconscious, blazing blue irises and the memory of strong arms around him and the physical bliss of the night before, it all came rushing back to him like a tsunami, and it was stronger.

Clasping his fingers around a three-inch shard of broken glass, Ichigo slashed it across Ginjou's unsuspecting face. The man howled in pain, clutching the cheek that was now bleeding profusely so that driplets of crimson drizzled down his chin and onto his neck. Ginjou's dark eyes went wide and wild and Ichigo delivered a swift kick to the chest, breaking the man's hold on him and clambering backwards until his back hit the wall and his gut wrenched.

The next thing he knew, Ichigo's forearm was being crushed by a giant hand, his sleeves already somehow pushed up above the elbow and Ginjou's knees pinning his legs to the floor. Dread unlike he'd ever felt swept him up in its cold cloak once Ichigo realized what the brunette was doing, instantly beginning to squirm and struggle his hardest to get away from the man.

"Maybe you think yer actually somethin' more than a pathetic, strung out junkie who'd do anything in a back alley fer just one hit," Ginjou hissed between his teeth, their faces inches away as he held the needle just above the vein in Ichigo's arm. "But yer _not!_ Yer nothin' but a common street whore whose only value is makin' _me _money. Now stop squirmin' or I'mma give you something much worse to cry about."

Though his body was tiring, Ichigo never let up and continued to desperately pull away from Ginjou and that syringe, knowing both would pull him back under into a world where he'd led a life he would've ended had he the nerve or courage. He couldn't go back, he couldn't. He couldn't lose his new life and friends. He couldn't lose Grimmjow.

The needle nearing the skin and going to pierce through any second now, Ichigo clutched the cross of his rosary like a lifeline and hoped that its protection could in any way help him. He screwed his eyes shut and thought of blue.

_Please..._

A thunderous, animalistic snarl was not the kind of answer he'd expected.

"What the fuck -!" came Ginjou's surprised, furious outcry and Ichigo felt the grip on his arm slacken, causing him to blink open his eyes and nearly shout the same obscenities as the other man.

There, not three feet from where they were against the bottom of the wall, was a massive, growling, snow white _wolf_. Seriously, the beast had to be the size of a Grizzly bear, if not larger, and equipped with razor sharp teeth and claws, the former of which were bared threateningly at Ginjou. It roared, snapping its powerful jaws at the dark-haired man and making him jump a foot in the air and clamber off of Ichigo, standing to his feet and steadily reaching for his gun.

Barely daring to breathe, Ichigo stayed still and his breath hitched when the wolf turned its head toward him. That was when he saw its eyes, the most peculiar and very familiar gold irises on black sclera, and almost immediately he relaxed, knowing his friend had come to help him. The boom of a gunshot caught both of their attentions, Ginjou standing in front of the white wolf with his still smoking pistol while the bullet he'd fired clattered to the ground as it had been incapable of puncturing the beast's hide.

A slight rasping sound came from the wolf's mouth, like the canine version of a laugh, and then it pounced, knocking Ginjou onto his side and gripping the hood of his jacket with its teeth. Unlike what Ichigo had prepared himself for, the wolf did not tear into the man. He didn't actually injure the man at all, just pulled him along like a chew toy throughout the foyer while Ginjou wriggled and struggled to free himself until they reached the elevator.

"Urgh, let me go, you stupid mongrel!"

Ichigo watched on in amazement as the elevator doors opened automatically with a _ding. _However, instead of seeing the lavish elevator interior there was the most unbelievable sight, the three walls replaced by a rough stone covered in ancient runes and symbols while the floor had been updated with a deep, dark pit that burned hellish flames around the edges. There was no mistaking where it led.

"No, wait - stop! Stop!"

The wolf descended into the pit tail first, dragging a terrified, panicked Ginjou pleading for his life over the edge. They disappeared with the mortal's final last "_No, please! NO!" _and the elevator doors closed again, leaving the foyer silent as the grave save for Ichigo's erratic breathing.

_Had he really just seen Ginjou get dragged into the Pit - the fire eternal, the Underworld, Hades... Hell?_

When the _ding _sound chimed again, Ichigo's heart jumped into his mouth, not knowing what to expect. Yet the instant he took in a brief glimpse of sea-foam that moved to make way for his beloved blue, relief flooded throughout him. "Grimm," he called, holding a hand against the wall to steady himself as he rose from the bloodstained marble.

"Oh my God!" Nelliel's feminine shriek rang out, the female Fallen clasping a hand over her mouth. "What-... what _happened?_"

Instead of speaking, Grimmjow blurred with speed as he traveled across the foyer to Ichigo and caught him by the arms. His eyes said everything he felt and thought at that moment, the orangette adept at reading them all, especially since he was experiencing most of it as well. "Tell me everything," he said in his deep, rumbling, and exquisitely comforting voice.

"It was... it was G-Ginjou," Ichigo informed them. "He came here and demanded I go with him. I'm not really sure why, something about an offer. He shot that man before I got here, though. And then we were fighting and I scratched him and he pinned me down and tried... tried to shoot me up with... _stuff. _But I guess Shiro heard us 'cause he came right in time, but as a big wolf, and he- um, he got rid of Ginjou."

He glanced over at Nelliel, who was alternating staring sadly at the dead man on the floor and Ichigo. "Why was Shirosaki, the Hell Hound, here?" she asked, frowning bemusedly.

"He was hurt last-"

"Long story," Grimmjow cut Ichigo off, his cornflower blue eyes searching every place on the youth's body that was visible, scowling heavily at the bruise forming around the right forearm where Ginjou had held it still with the means to inject the syringe into it. "I'll summon Octava. Nel, get the supplies."

"No!" Ichigo protested, rifling through his brain for his mental file on the pink-haired Fallen whom he'd spoken with about his health that one time. "No, I'm fine. Really. This is all... _his _blood."

Grimmjow was certainly about to protest but Nelliel spoke first, stepping over the pools of blood in her five-inch Mary Jane stilettos. "Not to mention, Grimmy darling, he most likely won't care to travel all this way for a bruise and scrape or two after he's found his Consort," she reasoned. "And don't forget you told me on the way back from Tercera's you planned to take Ichigo out to dinner like a _real_ date."

"Nel, this isn't the time to-,"

"Ah ah ah, I think it is exactly the time for you two to have a little romantic evening," Nelliel cut her ward off yet again. "I'll take care of things here, including giving this poor man a proper burial, and you two go relax and at least try to forget everything for a little while."

"_Yes_," Ichigo agreed wholeheartedly before Grimmjow could protest despite still being shaky from the recent ordeal, sliding his hands up the other's strong arms and speaking softly in what he knew was an enticing voice. "Yes, let's finally have some time to ourselves, even if it's only for a little while."

A bit of normalcy was seriously just what he wanted after all of the immortal insanity he'd had to deal with in recent events.

"Ichigo, I-"

"Please?" Ichigo simpered coquettishly, pulling out the big guns and tilting his chin up, jutting out his lower lip, and widening his eyes. It was a piece of cake.

The _'Look'_ never failed.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later found Ichigo and Grimmjow in the back of his town car, though this time they were headed for a completely different part of the city than where <em>Sexta <em>was located. Thank goodness Nelliel had bought backups for everything and he was able to wear the same outfit he thought divine even when the original was blood stained and ripped. Secretly, mortal was a little excited to be visiting the trendy, rich district as he'd never quite been allowed access to any of the establishments there due to his affiliations with less than reputable characters and obvious physical signs of being an addict.

Grimmjow had been even more silent than his usual 'strong but silent' demeanor the entire car ride from the apartment building and Ichigo knew it had to be due to just more than what had happened with Ginjou, though that was probably the main reason. Of course, he continued to be in the dark about what was going on in the immortal world but Ichigo was determined to get his love to loosen up a little and spend a tiny bit of romantic time with him.

Heavens, he might say Grimmjow was even more addictive than heroin. He needed him like air and water and light. He was an essential. He was life itself.

"Something on your mind?" Ichigo asked, intertwining his fingers with the blunette's. The question was obvious but it was the single way he could think of to start a conversation. "You've been practically silent this whole time."

"Just thinking, sweetheart," Grimmjow answered, a small smirk touching his lips and making the orangette's heart do backflips. "Mostly about you though, so do not worry."

"Oh, really?" Ichigo gave the other a sultry smile, sidling up closer to the Fallen's side. "What kinds of things are you thinking about me?"

Grimmjow's short-lived playfulness dissipated, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of Ichigo's neck and his fingers twining around the stray locks of hair there - a gesture that earned a purring moan from the younger. "The penthouse isn't safe anymore, we saw that today," Grimmjow said. "I want to keep you safe, Ichi, whatever it takes. But I can't always be by your side, no matter how much I want to."

"What are you getting at, exactly?" Ichigo quirked a brow and yet a warmth spread throughout his chest at the concern the other had for him.

"I think it might be prudent for you to have someone with you at all times, especially when I'm not there."

"You mean a bodyguard," Ichigo deadpanned, not liking the idea one bit.

"It's a temporary solution, sweetheart," Grimmjow consoled, brushing a few locks of tangerine hair away from Ichigo's wrinkled brow. "It would make me feel a lot better. Plus, I think we already have the perfect man, or mutt, for the job."

"Do you mean _Shiro_?" the orange-haired boy questioned incredulously, unable to match up the licentious, lascivious, Cheshire Cat-like Hell Hound with his image of a silent, capable Secret Serviceman.

"I know he doesn't seem the type but you saw him today. He protected you when I couldn't. I've known Shiro for... a long time, he likes you more than any human I've ever seen. He'd defend you with his immortal life," Grimmjow said, sighing and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of Ichigo's hand. "Besides, you two are friends so it won't be torture to spend time together when I'm not around."

"Well..."

"Please do this for me, _Ichigo_," Grimmjow implored, very unfairly staring deep into Ichigo's eyes and surely hypnotizing him with some sort of angelic spell.

"...Fine, I guess- "

He was pleasantly interrupted by the blue-haired male's warm, soft, full lips capturing his own, caressing them ardently and nipping at the lower one until a tiny droplet of blood pooled to the surface and Grimmjow laved his tongue over his. Ichigo tilted his head to the side and parted his lips so that wicked tongue could delve even further, massaging and furling around his own pink muscle and savoring his taste. Grimmjow's flavor was amazingly intoxicating, like a mix of chocolate and whiskey and something else indescribable but equally delicious.

Ichigo had only slid his knee over onto the other's lap when the car stopped, the driver's voice coming over the intercom to announce they had arrived at their location. They both gave small growls of frustration at being interrupted. Nevertheless, Ichigo slipped off of Grimmjow right as the driver opened the door and the latter began to climb out, reaching back to clasp their hands together.

A somewhat embarrassing flush heated the youth's face while he followed his lover out of the car and across the sidewalk where the restaurant they were eating had both its doors open to accommodate the large crowd waiting for tables or attempting to get one. Having never had a steady boyfriend, public displays of affection with someone he genuinely liked (or loved in this case) was brand new to him.

The crowd parted for them so they could walk right up to the hostess stand, something that Ichigo had to chalk up to Grimmjow's incredibly commanding presence. However, this was not without his love's fair share of starry-eyed gazes from the young women lined up alongside them and though he'd never been catty, he couldn't help but want to push them all in front of moving traffic.

"Table for Jaegerjaques," Grimmjow said to the visibly stunned hostess whom after a few seconds had to shake her head and look down at her seating chart, locating the name and grabbing two menus from underneath in one of the open slots behind the stand.

"Ahem, right this way," she said, her voice shaking a tad at the beginning. Ichigo couldn't blame her though, Grimmjow did have a way of entrancing people just with his looks alone which did make the orangette a bit jealous since in the whole of his young life he'd only succeeded at attracting a few girls but many, many men. Maybe he should start working out...

The restauraunt Grimmjow had picked out definitely scored major points on both class and trendiness, the crowd young and hip but from money and the decor exactly what Ichigo liked in a place - full of warm, rich russet and mahogany tones with dark golden lighting and comfortable booths (perfect for sitting extra close to dates.) The booth they were seated at was the best in the house, in Ichigo's humble opinion, privately situated in the far back corner so that they could look over the rest of the restaurant but no one could really see them.

Sitting opposite each other with he facing the view of the place, the hostess set down their menus and almost tripped over her own feet walking away. Ichigo shook his head, smiling softly.

"What is it?" Grimmjow asked, a grin of his own appearing to match.

"Oh I'm just thinking about how it's possible you know so much about... well, _everything_, and yet you're completely oblivious to how you affect people just by being yourself. It's kind of insane," Ichigo answered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the menu to see that the place served Spanish-style tapas. Furthermore, how had Grimmjow known he'd always wanted to try it?

"What's insane is how I could say the same about you," Grimmjow said, chuckling under his breath. When Ichigo went to respond, he was thwarted by a male voice announcing himself beside their table.

"Good Evening, my name's Shuuhei and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?" the waiter said, dressed in a typical get-up of a white shirt, black tie, pants, and waist apron. What were not so typical were the facial tattoos he had, one bold enough as to be the number '69' on his left cheek.

"We'll have a bottle of your best Cabernet Sauvignon," Grimmjow answered, not giving the server so much as a glance.

"Of course, sir. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I'll have a Coke," Ichigo said, flashing a polite smile up at the tattooed waiter.

"I'll be right back with those," the young man said, bowing slightly before whisking away to fulfill their orders.

"I didn't know you liked Coke," Grimmjow said the moment the server was out of earshot, one blue brow arched. Ichigo shrugged, fiddling with the end of his menu.

"I haven't had it in a while, but I just can't stand wine - especially red. People say it's an acquired taste, I know, but really I think that means it tastes awful and you just get used to it."

Grimmjow laughed softly, his laughter rumbling in his chest in a primal, masculine way that gets the heart racing in a delightful way. "I have to disagree. I've been drinking wine for centuries and it's only gotten better. I suppose that's why I can't stand the taste of soda. It's too foreign to me."

Ichigo flushed again, keeping his gaze on the table. "To each their own I guess," he mumbled, chewing on his bottom lip. He sometimes forgot Grimmjow had walked this earth for almost two millenia. "You haven't told me very much about your life here after you... um, Fell. Have you always lived here?"

"My life's not that interesting, I assure you," the blunette said. "I've lived all over the world, yes, but I haven't ever done anything extraordinary."

"But where did you live? What countries?" Ichigo questioned rapidly, dying to know what kind of rich immortal life he could look forward to come two weeks from now. He was now leaning over the table, his body language screaming eager.

"You really want to know?" Grimmjow said, receiving an enthusiastic nod in response. "Mm, I started out in Europe, of course, since I fell in Menai, but the Dark Ages drove me down to the Middle East and Asia. I lived in Japan during the Nara period and learned the way of the Samurai. I became obsessed with the skill and mindset of martial arts, which led me to live with the Northern Shaolin Monks for a while.

"When the Turks began invading Eastern Europe I followed them into Romania, where I lived in the Carpathians for about a century give or take a decade - learned the art of swordplay there, too. I'll take you there someday soon," Grimmjow managed to say before the waiter came back with their drinks, placing the Coca-Cola in front of Ichigo and then uncorking the wine bottle. He poured a mouthful's worth of wine for the blue-haired Fallen to sniff and taste the wine, which earned an eye roll from his date, and deemed it acceptable.

Sipping some of his Coke down, Ichigo gestured for the other to go on. "And then? Did you go further into Europe? Or South America? Or-"

"Yes, sweetheart, let me finish," Grimmjow said teasingly, pouring back some of his wine. "After Romania, I traveled further West from the Renaissance to the Victorian ages- Prague, Rome, Barcelona, Berlin, Paris - had to live through that bloody revolution - , London, Vienna. Then I decided to explore the New World."

"You mean America?"

"Yes, the cities at the time I was there around the turn of the century were dirty and overpopulated so I went westward yet again and that... that was something, kid. The land was still alive there," Grimmjow paused to sip his wine again and his gaze drifted off as if remembering something fondly. "I still have a cabin there in Montana that I'll bring you to after you become immortal."

"Really?" Ichigo asked like a small child, in awe of such a promise. To see the world - it'd always been his dream.

"How else better to spend your first few months as an immortal?"

"Few months? Wait, how many properties do you have?"

Grimmjow set his wine glass down and scrubbed his chin. "There's the penthouse here, the cabin in Montana, the castle in the Carpathians, the townhouse in London - and New York. Ah, and the beach house on an island off the coast of Rio," he said, appearing to enjoy the look of wonder Ichigo was sure was plain as day on his face. "Where do you want to go first?"

"The beach house," the orangette answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Done. The day after you're turned, we'll go to Rio and then the beach house. Good choice, too, that's where I learned capoeira."

The waiter returned to take their food orders, which Grimmjow promptly turned into one of everything because Ichigo couldn't decide. It was almost too easy for their dinner to turn into a date that regular, mortal, well-adjusted couples can have whenever they want. The whole time they ate they never once spoke of their immortal troubles, not once from when the appetizers arrived to when Ichigo had swallowed the last bite of dessert.

It was one of the best nights of Ichigo's life.

It was also a mere brief interlude into the chaotic turn his life would soon take.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Ooh, go Shiro! I definitely decided to give him a bigger role in this story since he seems to be everyone's favorite character. Don't worry, he'll be back next chappie and definitely sticking around as Ichi's bodyguard._

_Hope you all enjoyed! _


	7. Part VII: Fear and Flowers

...

**Sinful Part VII**

**Fear and Flowers**

* * *

><p>Curled up in the safe nest of satin sheets, Ichigo was dreaming quite peacefully about the soft and sensuous caresses of his lover when he was ever so harshly awakened in the minutes following nightfall. Hands on his shoulders shook him urgently until he blinked open his eyes blearily, confused and still under the hypnotic effects of a deep sleep.<p>

"Wha-... what is it?" he murmured, his blurry vision focusing in on the shirtless figure above him. His questions were only heightened however, when he saw the face of his angel and knew instantly something was wrong. "Grimmjow, what are you - "

"No time to explain," the man cut him off abruptly, his hands finding the orangette's and shoving a bundle of fabric into them. "Come on, Ichigo, hurry up and get dressed."

His voice gave him away no matter how calm he was trying to be, the mortal detecting that hint of alarm in it that sent his own warning bells ringing, loud and clear over the onslaught of panicked thoughts that came as a result. "What's wrong? What's going on?" Ichigo demanded, allowing the other to usher him up out of the bed. "Tell me, for God's sake! I can hear it in your voice that something's wrong."

"We're leaving," Grimmjow said, appearing distracted even as he looked Ichigo in the eye. "Now. So get dressed and get anything you want to take with you. Nelliel's waiting for us in the car."

"Leaving?" Ichigo repeated even as he shook out the bundles of fabric he'd been given, revealing two different pieces of clothing, a black long-sleeved The Cure shirt and a pair of jeans, and started to strip himself of the pajama pants he was wearing. "Where are we going?"

"Tokyo," was his answer. He drew in a deep breath in order to ask that the Fallen elaborate on where they were going specifically and why the hell they needed to get there in such a rush. It definitely fell under the category of "need to know" in his opinion. However as he began to pull on the jeans and opened his mouth, Grimmjow suddenly whipped his head back to stare over his shoulder at their closed bedroom door. The unspoken tension in that moment was enough to make Ichigo fall silent, pressing his lips together in order not to make a sound while he buttoned his jeans up.

What could the Fallen angel sense that he couldn't? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good, he realized as dread accumulated around him like ominous storm clouds.

Once he'd gotten the shirt on over his head, Grimmjow grabbed his hand and led them over to the double doors that he barged right through, the force enough that they banged against the wall with a heavy thud. Ichigo struggled to keep up with the man's brisk pace, almost stumbling over his own two feet as they swept down the hallway.

The living room was deceptively quiet as they entered the space, as still and silent as a painting. It was also dark, illuminated only by the city lights visible through the grand wall of windows that cast everything in a dusky bluish tint. Aside from his own footsteps and soft breath, there was no sound. It was a tense atmosphere, the air heavy and thick with a prelude of warning and it was almost suffocating. Ichigo didn't even realize that Grimmjow had stopped until he bumped into the other's torso, bringing him to an abrupt halt in the dead center of the room.

His eyes flickered up to study Grimmjow's profile and he noted the blunette's clenched jaw and narrowed gaze. Something was definitely wrong, Ichigo could feel it in his bones. There was almost a tangible presence of something sinister and it seemed as if the shadows became even darker, more menacing. His hand instinctively tightened around the larger one in his grip and he could feel his own expression mirror the angel's, his usual scowl deepening as the spine chilling feeling of impending danger steadily increased with every passing millisecond.

Then, right before his eyes, Ichigo witnessed as what could only be described as black smoke that crackled with bolts of electricity appeared on either side of the wall of windows, swiftly rolling through the air to completely cover the transparent portal. He heard Grimmjow inhale sharply and could feel it when the man tensed, figurative hackles raised.

"Grimm, what exactly is that?" Ichigo asked once he found his voice, nearly whispering.

"Trouble," Grimmjow said gruffly, his deep voice rumbling with his hatred for whatever omen this black smoke represented. The orangette didn't have time to ask for an explanation of just what kind of trouble before the ebony haze spread along the last bit of the wall and just as suddenly as it appeared so did jagged lines in the glass, cracks spider webbing the whole way through. Ichigo watched in stunned dismay as the windows then shattered in an explosion of crystalline shards.

He'd only managed to throw his arm up to shield himself against the tidal wave of broken glass when he was abruptly surrounded by darkness, not the malicious pitch black of the strange smoke but rather a familiar, comforting sort. Blinking a couple times, Ichigo was able to make out the distinct outlines of glossy ebony feathers and the phosphorescent glow of brilliant blue orbs. With a small sigh of relief he realized that he was encased within the fold of Grimmjow's wings, their massive spanse enough to protect them both from the shower of glass fragments that could've easily shredded through their flesh.

Then, without warning, Grimmjow swept his wings out to their full extension, the gust of wind they created enough to clear the area immediately around them of the inky smoke that had glided into the living room through the now gaping hole where the glass wall had once been. Ichigo's gaze roamed across the space, taking in the spectacle of the clouds of smoke separate and solidify into human silhouettes. They looked like shadows that had abandoned their owners and run off on their own.

From where they leapt and bound along the perimeter of the room there was a chorus of wicked, discordant cackling, their laughter stemming from a purely sadistic glee.

"_A Fallen and his human, how cute." _

"_What pretty hair. I want to touch it."_

"_Aw, it looks like big, bad Blue doesn't like us very much."_

"_But we haven't even done anything... yet." _

One of the shadow creatures darted out from the ring they had formed, a long-fingered, clawed onyx hand reaching out for Ichigo. Whatever ill intent it might've had was deterred, however, when a pulse of cerulean light met it in midair, a distinct sizzling noise accompanying the creature's howl of pain and outrage. Two more black forms shot out, crossing in front of the two targets and to the opposite place in their circle. They moved as swiftly as Fallen angels did, blurring with speed, and Ichigo could hardly keep up with them as they weaved in and out of the moving circle.

"_Mmm, the boy smells so good. So pure."_

"_I'm so hungry. It's been decades since I found someone so... appetizing."_

"_I don't see why we can't have just a taste."_

"_Yes, just one little _bite._" _

The jaws of one shadow creature snapped shut by his ear and it was then that he saw they had white teeth in their ebony maws, every last one of them in two different rows pointed and lethally sharp like those of a Great White. In the next second it was repelled by the same burst of light blue radiance, its high-pitched shriek piercing the air. Ichigo wanted to glance back at Grimmjow or question what they should do but he was rooted to the spot, unable and unwilling to turn his back on the horde of evil beings that surrounded them. Fortunately, a moment later the blue-haired Fallen spoke to him in a low, even tone as two more creatures were shocked by the mystical light that had to be summoned by the angel himself.

"Ichigo, close your eyes."

"W-what? I don't think so," Ichigo sputtered under his breath, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"_Poor little Ichigo."_

"_Come play with us, Ichi."_

"_Yeah, we promise to be good."_

"Trust me," Grimmjow said through gritted teeth from over his shoulder.

"Okay," Ichigo breathed, knowing that he would implicitly trust the man with anything and everything up to his own life. He subconsciously took a step backwards closer to the other, bringing him near enough that he could feel the body heat emanating comfortingly from his lover. Then he drew in a deep breath, holding it as he quickly screwed his eyes shut. He could still hear the obscene laughter and taunting jeers that came from the shadow creatures and it unnerved him, as if he wasn't high-strung beforehand.

However, crystal clear through the malevolent cacophony sounded Grimmjow's voice, even though it was so quiet that Ichigo couldn't discern what he was saying. But this was also due to the fact that the words were in a language he didn't understand, a dialect that must've been more ancient and rare in present times than even Latin or Greek. Still able to sense the smoke beings as they played their game of cat and mouse, Ichigo made an effort to concentrate on the angel's voice and keep his eyes closed no matter how his instincts screamed at him to open them.

Not even a second after Grimmjow fell silent, there was a beam of light blue brilliance so bright he saw its glow behind his eyelids. The howling shrieks full of agony and rage that followed made him cringe they were so horrific and there was a warmth on his face like he was sitting before a roaring fire. The entire phenomenon lasted only a few moments but to Ichigo it seemed much, much longer as he waited for the light and the screams to fade away. Once they did he hesitantly peeked through one eye and saw that the room was empty of the shadow creatures, though it was distinctly chillier than usual since the night air now wafted breezily through the empty window frames.

"How did you do that?" Ichigo said, turning around to face the other man. Grimmjow's hardened glare softened into his trademark arrogant smirk, his diamond blue eyes meeting the younger's own dark amber.

"Practice," he said. "Years and years of practice."

"And why did I have to keep my eyes closed exactly?" Ichigo said, unable to stop himself from attempting to satiate his curiosity.

"Because that much concentrated power would blind any human who looked directly at it," Grimmjow answered, tucking his large wings in so they arched above his head. The orangette was about to inquire what language he'd been speaking when a dark shape fell over them, carrying with it a thick aura of evil that he sensed almost immediately. He spun back around to see that the sole survivor of the pack of smoke monsters had hid among the shadows in the corner and now stalked closer, growing bigger every second until it was as tall as the ceiling.

"_You're strong, Sexta, to have exorcised my brothers and sisters. It's almost a shame I have to kill you," _it said in its raspy, mockingly conversational manner. That was when it pounced, one taloned hand raised to strike whilst it flew at them, aiming straight for Grimmjow.

Ichigo didn't know how he moved so fast or even why he moved at all. All he knew was that one second he was watching the creature as it came at them and the next he was holding his hand out in front of him, palm facing forwards. The instant the shadowy figure came into contact with his fingertips a small flare of glittering golden flames burst from his own flesh and seared through the blackness of the creature's form. It was like watching a piece of paper burn, the hole encircled by smoldering embers swiftly growing larger and larger, consuming everything,

The creature screeched, the sound like fingernails on a chalkboard or the metal of a tire scraping against the street. It desperately clawed at the gaping wound burning it out of existence but it was already too late. As its upper body turned to ashes, it stilled and it was just the shoulders and head that were left when it spoke again.

"_I'll be waiting for you in Hell, _Ichigo._"_

And then it was gone. Ichigo could hardly believe what he'd just witnessed with both sound mind and body that couldn't have deceived him into what had to be some kind of a delusion or hallucination. He slowly lowered his arm, dropping his hand back by his side, and he stared with wide eyes at the place the creature had been, nothing of it left, not even ashes. What had just happened?

"I think it's time I ask how you did that, sweetheart," Grimmjow said and upon looking over his shoulder Ichigo felt those beatific blues run him through like an enemy's sword.

"I-... I don't know..." Ichigo said, trailing off and gazing down at his right hand, flexing his fingers and rotating his wrist as if he could find something different there that would give him an answer, but there was nothing. "I was just standing there when that thing came at us, at _you_, and then I was already watching it burn. I don't know what I did, all I remember is thinking that I couldn't let it get to you, that I would do whatever I had to to keep it from hurting you."

Grimmjow was silent, his lips pressed together in a firm line and his brow furrowed as he appeared to be deep in thought. The mortal of the two felt his cheeks warm under that searching gaze, his gaze down and off to the side as he tried to stifle his natural reaction to squirm while being unashamedly scrutinized by the man he loved. "So, what were those things, anyway?" he said, wanting to leave the subject of his bizarre display of some kind of magical feat behind.

"Demons, the lesser kind that are created from the souls of humans in the Pit unlike the greater demons that were born as immortals. They materialize on earth in clouds of black smoke unless they possess someone."

"And what were they doing here?" Ichigo said, looking back up at the Fallen with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Looking for us," Grimmjow replied, his wings fluttering a bit before he let them disappear in a cloud of sparkling air and rolled his shoulders as the appendages settled beneath the skin of his upper back. "I had a feeling they would be coming today."

"Which is why we're leaving, I take it," Ichigo said as the blue-haired male's arm wrapped around his waist and guided him to face the opposite direction. He hadn't taken a single step forward before Grimmjow's other arm swept under his knees and he was lifted up bridal style.

"There's broken glass everywhere and you're not wearing any shoes," the angel said, cutting off the protests on the tip of the younger's tongue. They moved at a stately pace through the living room and the hallway to the foyer where Grimmjow set his load back on his feet in front of the elevator. "Knowing Nelly she no doubt packed several pairs for you to wear."

"Yeah, and hopefully she has a shirt for you, too," Ichigo said, his lips tilting ever so slightly upwards.

"What, don't like the view, Ichi?" Grimmjow said after pressing the elevator button, gesturing to his naked torso and grinning wolfishly. He knew very well that Ichigo was indeed enjoying the sight of his lover shirtless, the smug bastard. The real reason the human wanted him to cover up was that he didn't want anyone to be able to drink in the vision of a barechested Grimmjow except himself. He loathed the way women, and some men, so openly admired the blunette with _all_ of his clothes on.

"Where are we going that's in Tokyo?" he inquired, stepping into the elevator while his lover followed suit. Grimmjow hit the button for the building's garage and the doors slid slowly closed.

"It's a surprise."

* * *

><p>An hour and a half later Ichigo was still wondering what the surprise was as he, Grimmjow, and Nelliel made their way into the lobby of a luxe apartment building that was one of the many skyscrapers in the Shinjuku ward of Tokyo.<p>

He didn't think he'd ever get used to the vast amount of wealth that the immortals he associated with possessed. He felt so out of place among the city's elite that populated an area like this where the finer things in life were a dime a dozen. In his skinny jeans, The Cure shirt, red flannel jacket, and black Timberlands he felt like a teenage delinquent, which he was sure the locals had already labeled him if the disapproving stares he earned were anything to go by.

It wasn't fair, in her white long-sleeved shirt, teal maxi skirt, moccasin boots, and oversized shades Nelliel looked the part of an urban trendsetter that was worshipped for her stylistic flair and don't even get him started on Grimmjow. Though the man would look like a god in a burlap sack, Ichigo had to admit the designer black button down and matching trousers suited him well. If he ever decided to leave the nightlife industry, he could make a killing as a male model.

They took the elevator up to the very top floor, which, like Grimmjow's apartment, was the penthouse suite and therefore the most luxurious (and expensive) space in the entire building. Ichigo wondered who it was that lived there, if it was someone he knew or a new face. He knew better than to ask his lover, who'd just smiled a little and shook his head when the youth had done so in the car. _You'll see, _was all he'd said on the matter. It was incredibly frustrating.

When the doors slid open Ichigo's ears were immediately assaulted by the thunderous volume of the stereo system inside the penthouse. It took him a couple moments to even make out that the track playing was from an opera, the sonorous male voice booming throughout the entire space singing in Italian.

However, that was nothing compared to the blast of a gunshot that rang loud and clear over the music. Ichigo's eyes went wider than saucers and he turned his head to look up at Grimmjow, stunned to see the man as relaxed as ever like they hadn't just heard someone shot a gun mere feet away from them. He would've questioned the angel if he was sure it was a good idea to stay there for however long considering the mental state of whoever lived there wasn't exactly up to par but there was no way anyone could hear him over the music.

He cautiously tred behind Grimmjow through the hallway carpeted by a hodgepodge of overlapping oriental rugs and lined with lit sconces that reminded him of a late eighteenth century palace. They entered what must have at one point been a living room but now instead resembled what he imagined the storage room of a museum must look like. The furniture pieces were all different styles and were scattered about the space with no sense of order. There were also more oriental rugs on the floor and makeshift draperies fashioned from brightly colored silks and tapestries. Several potted plants, lamps, bird cages, and a massive fireplace were also located throughout the room.

The room was also stacked with piles and piles of books, all of them thick, worn, antique volumes in all different languages. The rest of its accoutrement was varied but no less interesting, a set of historical medical equipment, jars containing dead animals floating in formaldehyde, half melted candles, oil paintings, and stone statues and busts were just a few of the eye catching items.

Facing the fireplace was a brown leather wingback chair that was almost as tall as Ichigo and on its left arm rested the elbow of the occupant of these odd trappings. He shared a look with Nelliel, who just shrugged as she too had been left out of the loop about who and where they were headed, though she'd been much more excited about being surprised than he.

Grimmjow strode away and through the maze of furniture and collectibles, Ichigo watching as he walked right up to a modern stereo system partially hidden by a burgundy and gold tasseled drapery and hit the off button. The deafening silence that fell over the apartment lasted all of maybe five seconds and then there was another explosive blast as the gun was fired again, the bullet soaring across the room to whizz past Grimmjow's head, missing by a hair of an inch. Not that the blunette even blinked.

"Tha' was my favorite part, I'll 'ave ya know."

Ichigo visibly deflated, the telltale watery voice all he needed to hear to figure out the identity of the one in the chair. Of course it was none other than his new 'bodyguard' that owned this strange collection he housed in his living room.

Shirosaki rose from his seat, rounding the chair and revealing his outfit of crimson and gold robes fit for a sultan. In his right hand dangled a pistol that had to be two centuries old and inlaid with silver and ivory. His calla lily white hair hung loose like always, though Ichigo spotted a few braids with colored beads on the end in the alabaster locks.

"Ah, I jus' love it when tha Commendatore drags Don Giovanni ta Hell. Even after almos' two an' a half centuries since we saw its debut it still plays on my heartstrings," Shiro said to the Fallen angel who'd cut the music, a coy smirk appearing on his pale lips. " I remember ya didn' like it tha' much though, Grimm. Ya never were one fer tha performin' arts."

Ichigo frowned as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that apparently Shirosaki and Grimmjow had attended the debut of Mozart's first opera in the late 1700's. He definitely couldn't picture the two men dressing in the fashions of the era, especially the powdered wigs the nobility and the wealthy wore at the time. At that image he was forced to stifle a chuckle, deciding that he was lucky enough to meet them in modern day as the current trends complemented them much better.

"Ichigo, my pet, how nice 'a ya ta come visit me," Shiro said liltingly, almost gliding over to where the orangette and the only female were standing at the edge of the room. He stopped right before the mortal, hiding his antique pistol behind his back and then bringing his hand back holding not a gun but a bouquet of blood orange roses. "I believe these suit ya nicely."

"Uh, thanks..." Ichigo said, reminding himself that Shirosaki had saved him from Ginjou and he should just suck it up and take the stupid things if only to show his gratitude.

"An' Miss Nelliel, wha' a pleasure ta 'ave ya in my humble abode," Shiro greeted the green-haired woman, kissing her hand. Nel chuckled and shook her head fondly at the Hell Hound.

"Shirosaki, you charmer you, you haven't changed a bit," she said and the albino's smirk grew a little wider as he let go of her hand. "I only wish some of your good manners would rub off on Grimmy. He could certainly learn to be a little more cordial. I'll never understand how Ichigo puts up with him. I'm only his ward and I can hardly stand hi-... Ah, well what I mean is he is a little blunt sometimes." Nelliel smiled sheepishly and Ichigo knew without looking that she was receiving an icy glare from across the room.

"Grimm's a lil rough 'round tha edges now, sure, but ya should've seen 'im back in tha day. All he had ta do was wink an' a nun would shed 'er clothes fer him. Ain't tha' right, Grimm?" Shirosaki said, gold on black eyes swiveling over to where the man in question was still standing by the stereo, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. "A regular Casanova this man, couldn' so much as walk down tha street without gettin' mobbed by tha lustful hordes. I can' even mention wha' I've walked in on over tha years fer modesty's sake."

"Oh really?" Ichigo said, words springing forth from his lips before he knew what was happening. He could feel the little thorns on the rose stems prick his hand from where his grip had tightened around the bouquet. "Why is it that you can't even mention it in the name of modesty, Shirosaki? I would love to hear all about what you 'walked in on'."

Shiro opened his mouth to reply but he wasn't able to get a word out otherwise before Grimmjow was at his side, having flown over faster than Ichigo's eyes could see. The Fallen put his hand on the Hell Hound's shoulder in what looked to be a very firm grasp. "Another time, perhaps. I need to speak with you. Privately," he said stiffly to the albino.

"Very well," Shirosaki sighed as if greatly burdened, his eyes rolling heavenward and then they disappeared leaving nothing behind but a gust of wind that ruffled Ichigo's tangerine spikes.

"That hound really does know how to get a rise out of Grimmy," Nelliel commented, shaking her head and frowning in disapproval. "It's been thousands of years since they forged a truce after Grimmjow Fell but you could swear they were still enemies by the way they fight like cats and dogs. Oh well, I guess it's one of those 'guy things.'"

"Shiro wasn't lying about Grimmjow and his... exploits, though," Ichigo said after a while, loosening his hold on the rose stems as he felt a few wet droplets trickle down his palms that was most likely blood.

"No, Shirosaki may be a lot of things but a liar isn't one of them. It's not in his nature, he's above doing something as common as lying to get what he wants," Nel said, her wheaten orbs studying his face next to him. "He wasn't trying to hurt you, you know, he's clearly far too fond of you to do that. He just wanted to get Grimmjow in a bit of trouble."

Ichigo nodded but didn't glance away from where he was boring a hole into the back of that wingback chair with a look that could kill. He didn't want to be so upset over the painfully obvious fact that his lover had had more than his fair share of sexual conquests during his two millennia on earth. However, his emotions wouldn't listen to reason as they often did and he found himself burning with jealousy, snapshots of Grimmjow and other men and women together flickering through his mind like an old silent movie.

"I'll go put these in water and then put my stuff in one of the spare bedrooms," Nelliel said, prying the bundle of blood orange roses from Ichigo's hands. He slackened his grip on the flowers, allowing her to take them and her luggage with her as she carefully weaved around the cluttered living room and down a separate hallway.

Once she was out of sight, Ichigo sighed and realized he was already exhausted from the night's events. Curious as to what books the Hell Hound would stack in his personal quarters, he dragged his feet as he walked around a mahogany hutch that was piled high with thick texts. Running his fingers along the spines and thick, yellowed pages, he discovered that nearly all of them were written in a language aside from the one he knew. However, at the bottom of one stack he was pleasantly surprised to find a book with Japanese characters etched into the work leather.

_A Complete History of God and Demon Mythology in the Far East, _he read from the title page after he wedged it free. Flipping through the first hundred or so pages, Ichigo arrived at the beginning of a chapter entitled _Inu-Gami_, or Dog God. He laughed softly at the coincidence and began eagerly scanning the text for more information.

An _Inu-Gami _was a familiar that was invisible to everyone except the one who summoned it, who would use it as a guardian or as a means to enact revenge on some unfortunate soul. Nevertheless, there was a great risk that the spirit would turn on their master and the process of creating one was horrific, which included burying a live dog up to their neck and then placing food just out of reach so that it starved to death. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Ichigo closed the book and held it in one hand so he could shuffle the others aside to put it back in its proper place.

The heavy volume slipped from his grasp not a moment later and the orangette braced himself for the loud thud it would make as it hit the floor yet it never came. He blinked as he saw the book hovering inches above the ground, held aloft by a broad hand.

"Doing some light reading?" Grimmjow said, his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. He straightened to his full height, cerulean gaze falling to the book's front cover. "Useful information if you're going to stick with me, I suppose. I don't think the mutt would mind if you kept it."

The angel placed the thing back on top of the stack of volumes and no sooner had his touch left it that Ichigo practically jumped him, throwing his arms around the other's neck and sealing his lips over those temptingly full ones. Grimmjow grunted in surprise but Ichigo didn't care, threading the fingers of one hand into tousled blue locks and nipping at the other's bottom lip. He placed a series of light, quick kisses on the man's mouth, melding his upper body to that firm, solid chest, and finally Grimmjow responded.

A mountain of books tumbled to the floor as Ichigo was backed up onto the hutch, his legs immediately coming up to wrap around the immortal's waist and cinching them tightly so that they were pressed against each other. Ichigo slid a palm up and down the other's chest and abdomen, feeling the lines and planes of those perfect muscles. He broke away from their heated liplock to trail kisses along the column of a corded neck, gently biting the juncture of the neck and shoulder. The bronzed flesh tasted natural and masculine as his tongue swept out to lave over the Adam's apple.

"Fuck, Ichigo," Grimmjow's deep, rough velvet voice rumbled, his chest vibrating like a predatory cat's purr of satisfaction. His strong hands caressed Ichigo's back, one grasping his neck from behind and pulling him away from his ministrations so their lips could meet again.

Ichigo slipped his palms up the hem of Grimmjow's shirt, savoring how the smooth, warm flesh felt under his touch. He parted his mouth for the blunette's tongue to enter, the wet muscle sliding up against the sensitive spot on the roof of his mouth. Humming dreamily in pleasure, he hooked his fingers underneath Grimmjow's belt buckle, fumbling with the irritating thing as he tried to undo it.

Suddenly those lovely lips and sinful tongue drew away and Ichigo scowled, mouth pillowing into a displeased pout. His eyes opened when the other's hands encircled his wrists and pulled them from their work on the front of that belt. "Why are you...?" he murmured, not coherent enough to put together a more eloquent inquiry.

"As much as I might want to right now, I'd rather not take our relationship to the next level in the mutt's place where anyone could walk in on us," Grimmjow said, his glittering sapphire pools dark yet brighter than usual.

"So what? Let them see, I don't care," Ichigo dismissed, moving forward to capture his uncooperative lover's lips again and very put out when said lover leaned away from him.

"Well, I do. I'm a very selfish man and I don't want anyone to see you like this except me," Grimmjow said, snarling a bit at the end.

"You certainly didn't seem to have a problem doing whatever you wanted with all of those people who oh so willingly jumped into your bed in the past," Ichigo bit out, jerking his hands free of the other male's hold. He knew he was being childish and petulant, he really did. But try telling that to your hormonal side when it took Grimmjow's actions as a rejection and said in a little voice in the back of your head that it was because he didn't want you badly enough to further indulge in amorous activities. It made his chest ache and his eyes sting, which was humiliating in and of itself.

"Because they didn't mean anything to me!" Grimmjow growled sharply, his tone harsher than what Ichigo had expected and making him flinch. The angel grasped his chin, lifting his face so that he was forced to lose himself entirely in the sparkling electric blue of that soul-sucking gaze. "I'm not going back on my word. Now do me a favor and stop trying to persuade me otherwise, you're tempting enough as it is."

"I'm sorry," Ichigo said breathily, guilt welling up within him at ever thinking Grimmjow was anything but perfect. He didn't deserve the man's affections or love. "I just wanted to be close to you, even though I'm the one who said we should wait in the first place. I guess I never was very patient."

Grimmjow didn't say anything, instead inclining his head and kissing him again. It was a chaste liplock, just the simple gesture of pressing their lips together, and they broke away at the same time.

"Aren' ya two sweet as a slice 'a apple pie," came Shirosaki's silvery voice and Ichigo peered over Grimmjow's shoulder to see the Hell Hound had returned. Oddly enough, the albino was balancing a fine silver Western tea set and tray on the fingertips of one hand and twirled a strand of his ivory hair around his finger with the other. "Tea, anyone? 's my own special brew."

Grimmjow's lip curled and Ichigo heard the almost silent snarl that escaped him, placing his hands on the Fallen's biceps and squeezing slightly in an attempt to placate him. Grimmjow backed away far enough that the orangette could scoot off the hutch. Ichigo led the way over to where Shirosaki had placed the tea set on a customary Eastern low lying table, kneeling down on one of the plush cushions around it. Grimmjow lowered himself to the floor beside him, sitting with his legs bent in front of him and resting his elbows on his knees.

"So Ichigo, love, yer angel 'ere tells me yer in need 'a someone tha' has my own... _unique _set 'a skills," Shiro said once he'd poured everyone a steaming hot cup of tea that was a dark purple, almost black, and had a fruity aroma. Ichigo briefly wondered what could possibly be in anything Shirosaki made but decided to ignore the list of various oddities that came to mind and just taste it. He was almost surprised to find it was rather good, if not incredibly sweet.

"Apparently," was all Ichigo said, eyes cornering over to watch and see if Grimmjow said anything.

"Ya don' seem ta take this very seriously, pet," Shiro commented, tilting his head to the side a little and narrowing his exotic eyes as he searched the human's visage for something unknown. "Ya must be either very brave er very stupid, which is it?"

"Watch your mouth, Shirosaki," Grimmjow muttered, shooting a glare across the table to the demon, who paid him no mind as he continued to stare at the boy.

"To be honest I'm just trying to keep up with what's happening around me, which isn't too easy considering how little I know of your world. But I'm not going to sit around and cry about it like some spineless wimp, that's not me. So I'm sorry if I'm not shaking in my boots, terrified of what might be around the corner, but you're going to have get used to it if you're going to be around me all hours of the night," Ichigo said, setting his silver filigree teacup back down on the saucer.

"I can' say I'm surprised, Grimm wouldn' fall fer no pussy," Shirosaki commented lightly, circling the rim of his cup with one ebony nailed fingertip. "I ain' met many humans tha' can hang wit' us immortals, 'specially in tha past century er so since they all became comfortable an' soft wit' television an' shoppin' malls tha' hand feed everythin' to 'em. But I could tell from when we firs' met tha' ya were different, pickin' up a demon in disguise an' takin' 'im in when ya thought he was jus' a lost lil' puppy an' then standin' yer ground against a Fallen angel without blinkin' an eye. 's all very impressive, ya see."

Ichigo frowned as he pondered what the Hell Hound had said about him, unsure of why the other thought that he'd done anything extraordinary. All he'd done was pick what he believed to be a stray dog that needed his help out of the garbage and refused to let even Grimmjow take him away so that he could make certain that it didn't end up back on the street. However, apparently seeing that he was lost, Shiro elaborated.

"'s easy enough ta tell ya've had it rough yer whole life, experienced some real shit tha' would've blackened even tha kindest 'a hearts 'till they were less than human, either makin' 'em sadistic an' twisted as a demon er as apathetic an' cold as an angel. But not you, pet.. After everythin' ya still 'ad a soul pure enough ta feel compassion even fer a stray animal. Ya were strong enough ta hold on ta yer humanity an' tha's rarer an' more precious than any diamond."

"I... I wasn't thinking about any of that when I picked you up. I was just doing what I had to," Ichigo said, gazing down into the murky depths of his tea,

"I know, pet, I know," Shirosaki said, a soft smile gracing his colorless lips as he brought his cup to them to take a sip of tea. "But back ta tha point; Grimm can' be by yer side twenty four seven an' though yer tougher than ya look ya need an immortal of high standin' ta watch yer back, a.k.a yers truly. I asked Grimm ta bring ya here an' I've delegated my responsibilities as Hell Hound ta some friends 'a mine fer now so I can keep a close eye on ya at all times."

Ichigo slumped forward in a visible sign of resignation, there was no way out of this it seemed and so he was reluctantly going along with this whole bodyguard deal. How bad could it possibly be, right?

Deafeningly loud opera music and gunshots popped into his thoughts and he rubbed his temples as the first headache of what he assumed would be many made itself known, the pounding in his head not assuaged even a bit. Well, at least he would have Nelliel there to keep him company and he wouldn't be entirely alone with the white-haired demon.

"How long do you think I'll be staying here?" he asked.

"As long as it takes, sweetness," Shiro answered, grinning toothily. "Now, let's move on ta tha next order 'a business. Tell me wha' happened earlier when ya managed ta stop an' exorcise tha' demon. Grimm already filled me in on wha' went down but I'd love ta hear it from yer perspective so indulge this mangy ol' mutt, would ya?"

"Um, okay," Ichigo agreed hesitantly, shifting from his kneeling position to sit Indian style on his cushion. He stole a glance over at Grimmjow but he was focused on glaring at his untouched cup of tea like he could blow it up with his mind. "Truthfully I don't really know what happened. One of the... demons survived Grimmjow's exorcism spell and it snuck up on us. It said that Grimmjow was strong to have exorcised the others and that it was almost a shame it had to kill him. Then it flew towards us and... I don't know why or how I did it but I held out my hand to stop it from reaching him and when it touched me this burst of flame shot out from my fingers. The demon caught fire and it slowly burned him into nothing from the inside out and... well, that was the end of it."

Shirosaki simply hummed and leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand, appearing to be deep in thought. "Ya already know wha' this is, Grimm, don' ya?" he said airily, not moving his gaze away from the human on the other side of the table.

"I haven't been able to come up with another explanation thus far," Grimmjow muttered hoarsely, still glowering at his teacup so intensely that Ichigo could practically feel his frustration. "And even so, it's impossible, he's still human."

"He's strong," Shirosaki said, serious as Ichigo had ever seen him. "Ya 'ave ta feel it, too. He's been touched by tha creator Himself."

"I would not say such things if I were you, Shirosaki," Grimmjow growled, his head finally rising so that he could pin down the albino with his breathtaking arctic stare, his hands clenching in and out of tight fists. "He's had nothing to do with us since before I Fell. Have you truly forgotten He has forsaken us all? Whatever this is it could not have less to do with Him."

"Who are you guys talking about?" Ichigo cut in, not liking to be left out of the loop, especially since this directly concerned him.

"Someone we knew a long time ago, pet. It doesn' matter righ' now," Shiro said, sipping his tea and closing his eyes for a brief moment as if collecting his thoughts then reopening them to focus on the orangette. "I think I know wha' caused ya ta fry tha' demon, even if Grimm refuses ta acknowledge it."

There was a warning growl from the blunette but he said nothing further and allowed for the Hell Hound to reveal his theory to an eager yet wary Ichigo, who subconsciously leaned in closer in anticipation. He was grateful for whatever pieces of knowledge he could gather when there was so much he didn't know.

"When a consort of an Aspect becomes immortal they, er at least tha four in existence, gain control of a simple but powerful gift. Fer example, take tha girl tha' stitched me up tha other night, tha firs' consort ta ever find their Fallen. She 'as a gift fer healin', which is why I was back in workin' order tha next night when I got ta escort our guest ta 'is new home."

Ichigo felt a shiver run up his spine at the thought of Ginjou and his gruesome end, his screams still fresh in the boy's mind. "I gather that you're trying to slow walk me to a conclusion but if you wouldn't mind, I would prefer it if you got to the point," he said, rubbing his right temple in a second attempt to ease some of the throbbing that hadn't let up since it'd started.

"He thinks you have somehow tapped into your power while you're still human," Grimmjow answered in the demon's stead.

"Oh... oh, I see," Ichigo uttered a little faintly. He knew he'd signed up for weird when he started a relationship with a Fallen angel, but just when he thought there couldn't be any more surprises - BAM there's a madman with a gun or a horde of demons or whatever else fortune had in store for him. "It was just a fluke, anyway so it doesn't matter what it was, right?"

"If ya say so, Ichi," Shiro said nonchalantly, sighing a little. "I'll jus' clean this up, can' have a mess in my lil' slice 'a sanctuary, can we?"

The white-haired man's figure blurred, all the pieces of the tea set vanishing from the table and then disappearing through the doorway along with him. Ichigo instantly took the opportunity of being alone with Grimmjow, sidling over to sit right beside the man and laying a hand on his upper arm. The angel's head turned toward him and he looked so forlorn Ichigo could hardly stand it, wishing he could somehow make everything better and have the man dazzle him with that brilliant smile of his. "I can't believe you're actually gonna leave me here with him," Ichigo said, hoping to lighten the mood if only for a fleeting moment.

"As long as you let him fawn all over you like he does you'll be all right, kid. If I lived with him for decades with only the occasional bloodshed you can survive a few weeks," Grimmjow said, his lips curving up into a reassuring smile that held no real feeling or warmth. "Nelly will be here to keep you company and you can read about everything you want to know about our world in all of these books."

"And what will you be doing, exactly?" Ichigo asked, raising a tangerine eyebrow. Grimmjow's gaze trailed off to stare into space with a dangerous look on his face that made the other helplessly shudder.

"I'm going to visit some old friends of mine," was all the man said.

"Will you be coming back soon?" he asked, hating how small and childlike his voice sounded. He felt like a child lost and alone in a crowded marketplace. Ever since they'd met he and Grimmjow had almost consistently spent their hours together and he'd liked that, enjoying an entirely new sensation of security and contentment he could find in his lover's presence. He didn't want to all of a sudden lose that when he'd so recently been blessed with it.

"I'll stop by as often as I can, every few days or so," Grimmjow answered and Ichigo's heart leapt up into his throat, making it hard to swallow past the lump there. "I'll be traveling in and out of Japan for the most part so when I'm out of the country I'll call you to check in."

"You'd better," Ichigo told him.

Grimmjow didn't say anything to that, returning to face the younger man once again and lifting a warm palm to cradle his cheek. Ichigo leaned into the touch so gentle one would have not believed the angel capable of initiating it, because it was only ever meant for him and that knowledge took his breath away. "I hate you for leaving me behind," he whispered.

"I know."

They were silent for the next minute or so, a comfortable, genuine moment in time where all they needed was to be together. It wasn't meant to last though and they looked up as Nelliel walked slowly into the room, looking terribly guilty for interrupting something so intimate. Ichigo looked up at her, noticing the cell phone in her hand. "The car's waiting at the curb to take you to the airport, Grimmjow," she said almost apologetically.

"I'll be down there in a minute," he said and she nodded, placing the phone back to her ear and confirming what her ward had said while she padded back down the hallway.

Ichigo pushed himself up off the floor and stood there as Grimmjow followed suit, the two of them standing as close as they could get without touching. He could feel the blunette's peppermint scented breath on his face and he let his eyes flutter closed, inhaling the man's distinct, intoxicating smell and committing it to memory. However, not wanting to drag this already excruciating farewell on any longer than it had to be, he placed his hands on either side of Grimmjow's face and pulled him down into a searing, soul blazing kiss.

The angel's arms wrapped around him like a steel trap and Ichigo revelled in how high he felt like he was flying, like nothing could touch him as long as Grimmjow held him. But like all good things it had to end and they parted, the orangette left breathless and a little lightheaded from the intensity of that kiss.

"Be good while I'm gone, sweetheart," Grimmjow said, smirking devilishly.

"No promises," Ichigo replied, not missing a beat. "Now get lost."

Then he was gone.

Ichigo smiled sadly, crossing his arms over his chest and huddling further into his red flannel jacket as he suddenly felt cold, already missing that addictive body heat the man he loved emanated like a walking, talking space heater. His eyes stung and his throat constricted but he refused to cry, saving his tears for a time when he might need them for something truly somber and this wasn't it because he would see Grimmjow again before he knew it, however brief and intermittent those visits lasted.

The abrupt blast of noise in the room made Ichigo jump, his eyes finding the culprit standing beside the stereo system that had just been switched back on, picking up right where the Commendatore's song had been cut off. "Much better," Shirosaki said, his silvery voice audible above the music even though he spoke at a normal volume.

"Don't you think we should turn that down?" Ichigo said, raising his voice so that he could hear himself let alone the demon hear him. Thankfully, Shiro heeded his suggestion and adjusted the volume on the stereo to a more appropriate level, though it was still rather loud.

"Yer gonna have ta learn ta let loose a lil' if yer gonna be bunkin' with me, Ichigo," Shirosaki said, shaking his head as if the other both amused and exasperated him. He gracefully moved to where there was an antique loveseat with leather upholstery, beckoning his house guest to him. "Come, sit with me, pet."

Ichigo bit his tongue in order not to rather boldly insist that the albino stop calling him that ridiculous nickname and reluctantly trudged over to where the other was reclining on the loveseat, sitting down next to him. "Thank you, for letting me stay here," he said, his manners getting the best of him.

"Tha pleasure's all mine. 's been rather lonely in 'ere lately," Shiro said.

"But... I mean, aren't you worried that if I'm here those demons or whatever else is out there will follow?" Ichigo asked, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands. He didn't believe for a second that the demon would be scared of anything at all, the very notion almost laughable, yet he couldn't help but feel guilt that he was burdening his host by staying there now that there was apparently a price on his head.

"Oh, they will but they ain't gettin' in," Shiro said and when Ichigo shot him a confused look, he sighed and dug one ebony nail into the colorless flesh of his palm. The mortal watched him warily as a droplet of crimson blood appeared and he pressed his thumb against the spot.

Ichigo's jaw dropped as neon red markings flared to life on nearly every square inch of the room, forming glowing scarlet symbols and signs that he recognized from a few of the demon's books and those that he'd seen in the portal to the Underworld that had formed in the elevator when the Hell Hound had dragged his tormentor down into its depths. A watery chuckle escaped pale lips as Shirosaki apparently found his reaction entertaining.

"Ya 'ave much ta learn 'bout tha other side, young grasshopper."

Well, Ichigo definitely had the time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know everyone was jonesing for more Shiro, including me (he's so much fun to write), so you can expect him to pretty much be in every chapter update all the way through to the end. Also Grimmjow will not be absent for too long, I promise. Until next time, then. :)_


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